


A Friend in Purgatory

by just_one_of_those_days



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, I suck at this, Rated M for later Chapters, buckle up for the slow burn, idk read the summary i guess, mild homophobia tw in chapter 3, pov switching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_one_of_those_days/pseuds/just_one_of_those_days
Summary: Nicole Haught doesn't understand why Waverly Earp throws her off balance so much. Waverly thinks the new cop is hot (pun intended) and intends to let her know it.ORA sort-of-canon AU where Nicole is in the closet (and doesn't know it) and Waverly is scared of falling for a straight girl.





	1. Unbalanced

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a little while, so I thought I would put it out there. I just love how much Waverly owns her sexuality as it develops in the show and how much she takes the initiative with Nicole, and I thought it would be interesting to see a reversal of their story in a way. Namely, that Nicole is the one in the closet at the start and Waverly is already out, and what Waverly's courtship of Nicole would look like. This first chapter is their first scene together, but written with Waverly as the suitor, so to speak. I honestly just want to see if people like it and if they want to see more, so I don't have a lot of this plotted out yet, but I'm thinking that it would be a mix of altered canon scenes and original scenes as things progressed. So, please leave a comment and let me know if you want to see more. This is my first foray into this fandom, and I want to do it proud. Wynonna Earp has become one of my favorite shows to watch, and I am loving season 2!

“I didn’t know Shorty’s had wet t-shirt competitions.”

Waverly Earp looked up in frustration from the tap that had burst on her. A police officer leaned against the doorway, white Stetson in hand, a teasing smile on her face. “You okay?” she asked, the laughter evident in her voice as Waverly turned away, smiling ruefully at the situation.

“Yeah, yeah,” Waverly said as she reached for a towel to blot at her shirt. “I, uh, I’m just a bit jumpy. I had a crazy night.” _Now that Wynonna is back in town, I get the feeling crazy is going to be my new normal_ , she thought to herself as she pressed the rag to her chest.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to see it.” The officer walked up to the bar and placed her hat on it. “I’ve been meaning to introduce myself, my name is Nicole. Nicole Haught.” She stuck her hand out to shake.

 _I’ll say_. Now that Waverly was less distracted by her beer-soaked shirt, she was able to take in the woman standing in front of her, and oh boy, there were dimples. And red hair; all twisted up in a braid and pinned back behind her head, and a body that hinted at curves beneath the standard formless sack the Purgatory PD liked to call its uniform. Waverly reciprocated the handshake with a smile and a small “Hi!” as Nicole barreled on with her introduction.

“And you are Waverly Earp.” She drew out Waverly’s name and Waverly decided that she liked the sound of it, even as she confirmed Nicole’s statement with a nod and a quick affirmation.

“Quite the popular girl around here,” Nicole observed.

“Oh, you know, it’s all in the smile and wave.” Waverly demonstrated her trademarks for good measure.

“Yeah,” Nicole said, holding her gaze. Waverly felt the familiar tug of sexual tension, but before she could explore it, Nicole turned her head. “Can I get a cappuccino to go?” she asked, as if that had been her intent all along.

Waverly mentally shook herself. _She’s new in town and she’s a cop; she just wants to make sure you know who she is for the inevitable disturbance calls you have to make. Get a hold of yourself!_ Out loud, she grimaced and shook her head. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, we’re not actually open yet, so…” she trailed off, trying to make the refusal as soft as possible.

Nicole looked around, her face widening in understanding. “Oh! Right, okay, my bad!” She held up her hands in a sort of mock surrender.

Waverly nodded in relief as she held the towel to her body once again. And although she felt like Nicole was straight, she glanced at her again and sighed in mock frustration. “God, I’m sopping wet.”

Nicole let out a little laugh as if Waverly hadn’t made a massive innuendo. _Okay, straight and oblivious. Good to know._ Waverly thought to herself as she went on with her explanation of Shorty not fixing the taps. So what in God’s name possessed her to test the waters _again_ by asking the officer for privacy while she changed and _then_ for help when she got “stuck” she couldn’t have guessed. Actually, she knew damn well what possessed her; the desire to see that gorgeous face up close. _Those dimples_.

Nicole laughed as she rounded the bar to help Waverly out of her shirt. “I got you,” she promised the pretty bartender as she gingerly handled the shirt, making sure not to touch any skin. Waverly was smiling when her face appeared again (though it was partially obscured by her mussed hair) and she clutched the shirt to her chest. Nicole stepped back to give the other woman some space, trying to think of a way to bring up the disturbance that had been reported at Shorty’s the night before. “It’s a good thing I’m not one of the male deputies or this would be really, really awkward,” she joked. She trailed off at the end, though, because Waverly had tilted her head and was smiling at her in a way that made her flush and shuffle her feet.

The silence echoed for a beat too long before Waverly covered it. “I owe you one,” she said.

“Oh, no, no you don’t,” Nicole said quickly. She didn’t know what it was about Waverly that kept knocking her off balance, but something about this whole interaction made her feel like a rookie again.

Waverly, though, had straightened and stared her down in a serious, albeit earnest manner. “I insist. How about I buy you that cup of coffee? How about tonight?”

“Oh, I can’t. I mean, I’d love to—like to, I’d like to,” Nicole corrected herself with a small frown, “but I have a double shift. Yeah, I’ve been working a lot since I started. I like to make a good impression, especially on the sheriff. Sheriff Nedley, my boss,” she clarified as if Waverly wouldn’t know who the sheriff was. Waverly just let her ramble, that same small smile on her face as she nodded along.

“Working a lot,” Waverly confirmed. “Yep, I’ve been there.” She had dropped her arms and taken her shirt into one hand as she moved around Nicole towards a set of stairs. “Well, okay, some other time.” She smiled at Nicole and Nicole couldn’t help smiling back. “I mean it,” Waverly continued. “I have to go get changed, but it was a pleasure to meet you, Officer Haught.” She smiled one last time before climbing the stairs, leaving Nicole to wonder what had just happened.

“Waverly Earp,” Nicole said to herself with a shake of her head. She took a moment to collect herself, annoyed at the necessity of it, and left her card on the bar in case Waverly needed it. She found herself hoping that Waverly did insist on the cup of coffee as she left Shorty’s. She needed a friend in Purgatory, and bartender’s ray-of-sunshine personality left her with a good feeling. It was only after she arrived at the station that she realized she hadn’t asked Waverly a single question about the disturbance from the night before. “Crap,” she said to herself as she sat at her desk. “This is going to be an interesting report to write.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly deals with the aftermath of events in "Keep the Home Fires Burning" and starts to befriend Purgatory's newest cop. Nicole revisits some painful memories and meets Deputy Marshall Dolls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments on the last chapter! I really appreciate all of the interest and enthusiasm for this story and I hope this chapter is a worthy follow up. Please let me know what you think down below! I will be trying (desperately) to have a once-a-week update schedule now that I've got a partial outline and a better idea of where I want to take this story. If any of you have followed my other work, you know I typically write slowly, but I will make a real effort for all you guys cuz you're worth it :). In other news, I have joined the black hole otherwise known as Tumblr! I have not posted a damn thing yet, but I guess come say hi anyway? I'm going to upload all of my fics and do some other stuff on there once I figure out how it works. 
> 
> https://justoneofthosedays16.tumblr.com/
> 
> Anywho, thanks for reading, I hope you like it!

Bobo was her imaginary friend. Bobo Del Rey, demon, leader of the revenants, and all around jackass (apparently) befriended a little girl so she would bury a talisman that would leave her home vulnerable. A weak, stupid little girl. Waverly stomped through the snow on the sidewalk on her way to Shorty’s. Her home life wasn’t sunshine and rainbows as a child; Daddy drank too much and Willa was a jerk, but at least she had felt safe and had Wynonna to play with. Everything had truly gone to shit that night when the revenants attacked. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could still hear Willa’s screams and smell the acrid gun smoke from Peacemaker after Wynonna fired. Her throat felt raw, suddenly, as if her own screams had come back to haunt her and sear her throat once again. She had always blamed Wynonna for that night, but now she had the truth. Daddy died because of her, and so did Willa. Wynonna was broken and eventually institutionalized and Waverly was left all alone, a scar that was first left by her mamma, all because Bobo had been able to manipulate her. Waverly screwed up her face in an effort not to cry as she opened the front door to the bar. She had work to do, and Shorty’s customers would have neither a sympathetic ear nor wallet for her problems.

Once inside, she started setting up for opening. She made sure all of the glasses were polished and the taps primed before wiping down the tables and flipping the chairs to their places on the floor. As she started the coffee, her thoughts wandered to the redhead who had asked for one the day before. In what had been turned into a supremely awful day, Nicole had been a bright spot, and Waverly still had her card tucked into her wallet. Not that she would have been able to forget her, the gorgeous cop had occupied all of her errant thoughts over the last twenty-four hours. Especially her dimples.

 _You’re conveniently ignoring the fact that she’s straight,_ a voice that sounded annoyingly like Champ sounded off in the back of her head.  Waverly frowned at the thought, but she still poured two cups of coffee in to-go cups and set them on the counter. _Friends bring each other coffee_ , she argued with herself, _and I could use a friend right now_. She finished setting up the bar just in time for the first few customers to arrive and begged a short break from Gus when she walked in shortly after. Once back out in the cold snow, she walked to the Sheriff’s station, determined to find Nicole. It didn’t take long, as Nicole was exiting the Black Badge’s office, seething. _God, but she’s pretty_.

“Hey,” Waverly said as she approached, raising the cup of coffee like a peace offering.

Nicole sighed, frustration evident in her face. “Hey, Waverly,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you might like that coffee,” Waverly answered, gesturing again with the cup.

Nicole looked at the two cups in momentary confusion. “Oh,” she said and then grimaced, “I’m kind of on-duty, so I can’t really hang out.”

“I didn’t think you could,” Waverly said with a grin. “I just wanted to bring it by.”

“Oh, okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be a jerk.” Nicole extended her hand and took the cup and Waverly was very aware of their fingers brushing as she did.

“You’re not a jerk,” Waverly scolded. “Rough day?” she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the door.

“Just bureaucratic bullshit.”

“Ah,” Waverly nodded in sympathy. “Deputy Marshal Dolls can be…strict.”

“Wait, you know him?”

Waverly nodded. “He asked me to be a consultant.”

“Seriously?” Nicole all but growled. “He won’t let me anywhere near anything they’re doing, and I’m a cop! He even threatened to charge me with treason if I don't knock before entering. Which I did, by the way!”

Waverly could tell she had stepped on a land mine and she took a step back. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he really wants to work with Wynonna or me either, but he kinda has to.”

“Why?” Nicole asked immediately.

Waverly froze and her mind skipped over the last few days; all of the pain and damage caused by the revenants. Her hand went to her throat, where she still had to use makeup to cover up the marks left by the noose they had her in on Wynonna’s birthday. The panic must have shown on her face because Nicole blanched and rushed to reassure her.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me. I’m sure you’re not supposed to,” she added, with a surprising lack of bitterness in her voice.

Waverly smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Not really, I’m sorry.” She didn’t add that the thought of anything happening to Nicole because of the Earp curse made her weak with fear. She was pretty sure the cop wouldn’t appreciate it; for multiple reasons. She shook off the thoughts, though and took a deep breath, wanting to recover the conversation. “Marshals with sticks up their butts aside, how are you liking purgatory?”

Nicole smiled and Waverly had to look away to keep from blushing. It was so beautiful it made her heart stop, and she had to mentally remind herself ( _again)_ that this woman was straight. _You’re here to be friends. Just friends._ She repeated the notion in her head like a mantra as Nicole answered her question.

“I like it so far. It’s a big change from the city, but Nedley was right, I feel like I’m making more of a difference here. It’s more…personal, at least. I like being able to learn my citizen’s names and know that I’ll see most of them at least once a week, or even once a day. Plus, there’s that small town charm.” Nicole smiled again and Waverly smiled back. Nicole stared at her for a moment and then coughed. “Sorry, I, uh, I didn’t mean to ramble on like that.”

“Don’t be, it’s nice to hear,” Waverly assured her, and it really was. She had never heard a cop express that kind of passion for their work in Purgatory. Not that they didn’t take their jobs seriously or that they weren’t proud of the work they did, but for most of them, it was one of the more lucrative and steady positions available to them. Listening to Nicole was refreshing, and without thinking about it, she reached out to touch Nicole’s arm. But, as soon as her fingers brushed soft skin, Waverly pulled her hand back. The less physical interaction, she was sure, the better to avoid falling for the taller ginger. “I’m sure you’re going to make a great Purgatory cop,” she added.

Nicole actually blushed at that and Waverly’s heart stuttered yet again. “Thanks,” Nicole said, before clearing her throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Only if you want an answer,” Waverly joked.

“Everyone in town says you’re really smart, that you have all these degrees. Dead languages or something?” Nicole frowned as she looked to Waverly for confirmation. Waverly nodded and Nicole nodded back, almost to herself. “So, why the bartending? Not that there’s anything wrong with it,” Nicole rushed to add as Waverly flashed a wry smile, “it’s just that multiple degrees seems to say ‘professor’ or ‘researcher’ to me, I guess.”

“Well, at first it was a way to pay bills and help with school, though my Uncle Curtis paid for most of my tuition. But, I found that I was good at it, and it’s easy for me. Purgatory is my home, and I have…obligations here that I can’t ignore so when I decided to stay here, staying at Shorty’s made the most sense. I can’t really use my education for employment around here,” Waverly finished with a chuckle.

“That makes sense,” Nicole said. Waverly was struck with how easily Nicole accepted the explanation and that she didn’t question, as most people had, why she had gotten the degrees in the first place. (Most people felt that working at Shorty’s for the rest of her life seemed like an obvious and achievable ambition for her.) She was about to ask Nicole what made her want to be a police officer, but the door behind her opened, revealing a surly Dolls.

“Waverly, we need your expertise inside,” he said before closing the door.

Waverly sighed. “I guess Gus is going to have to suffer without me for a little while longer. I’ve got to give her a call and get in there, Nicole, sorry.”

“Oh! No, don’t worry about it, I’ve got things I need to do too.” Nicole said, shaking her head. “I’ll see you around?”  

“Definitely,” Waverly said. She applauded herself on her (as usual) great judge of character as she waved goodbye and slipped into the Black Badge office. Nicole was a breath of fresh air in Purgatory and Waverly knew that even if nothing would happen between them, Nicole could be a great friend.

Nicole walked away from the Black Badge office with a smile on her face, which shouldn’t have been possible after her confrontation with Dolls, but something about Waverly had restored her mood. _She’s so nice,_ she thought to herself, _just as sweet as everyone says she is._

“Officer Haught?” Brenda, the dispatcher leaned around the corner and waved at Nicole.

“Yes, Brenda?” Nicole asked, resisting the urge to stand at attention.

“Roy has come down with something, could you replace him on patrol?”

“Of course.” Nicole switched directions and headed for the parking lot, glad for the change in routine.

***

By the time she hit the outskirts of town, Nicole had found a Zen sort of mindset about the Black Badge situation. Was it frustrating? Absolutely. But, Dolls wasn’t going to let her in any time soon, and that was because he couldn’t trust her with that kind of clearance. She was new to town, new to policing, and new to Dolls. There was no reason to trust her until she had proved she was worthy of it, and that was exactly what Nicole planned to do. She would do her job, toe the line he had set for her, and prove her trustworthiness. She nodded to herself, pleased with her new plan. She picked up speed as she passed by the endless farms with their cows and pastures. Ahead, the mountains loomed, striking the sky with their peaks and taking Nicole’s breath away in the process. The views in Purgatory never ceased to amaze her, even in the winter when the snow blanketed everything and the trees stood naked to the cold. There was a stillness that spoke of nature’s strength, a gathering of energy for the spring when everything would burst into bloom. Nicole couldn’t wait to see that side of Purgatory; she could imagine the hills and mountains covered in green and colorful flowers, the sun shining bright and a warm wind reaching out to caress her. It was a sight worth sticking around for, that much she was willing to bet.

A car pulled off to the side of the road on the very edge of town had Nicole reaching for her radio. After telling Brenda she was investigating, Nicole pulled over and checked the safety on her pistol. Slowly, she moved towards the car, a white Ford sedan. As she stepped closer, she could see it moving, as if someone was inside and struggling, though she couldn’t see much from the glare on the back window. She stepped around to the side and now was close enough and at the right angle to see that yes, there were two people inside the car, but they were definitely not struggling. Nope, not struggling at all, unless you counted the struggle towards a physical release, that is. Nicole blushed and averted her eyes, before rapping her knuckles on the window. The movements in the car stopped abruptly. Half a second later, the door cracked open and a quivering voice asked, “Is there a problem, Officer?”

Nicole looked at the sky, already wishing for this interaction to be over. “Clothe yourselves and please step out of the vehicle,” she intoned.

She heard giggling from the car and some rustling before the door opened fully and two teenagers climbed out. The boy was flushed, his expression caught between embarrassment and pride as he stared Nicole down. The girl was also red, her hair mussed and her shirt didn’t quite sit right on her body, but she was smiling and she snuck her hand out to intertwine with his. He accepted the movement instantly, and Nicole watched his eyes take on a new protective gleam. Nicole sighed.

“What are your names?” she asked.

The boy answered first. “Ben Silt.”

“Melissa Hartwood.” For the first time, the girl looked scared, suddenly understanding that they could get in trouble.

Nicole wrote their names in her notebook and a description of the car, letting the silence settle into the pair. When she moved to the back of the car in a show of taking down the license plate, Melissa cleared her throat.

“Please don’t tell my parents,” she said.

Ah, so her car—or her parents’ car. Parents who would not be happy about what had been happening inside said car. Nicole just shut her notebook and tucked it into her pocket. Ben’s face had morphed to anger.

“You can’t do this,” he said. “We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

Nicole raised her eyebrows at him and he fell silent. Melissa looked anxiously between the two of them, and Nicole could see panic rising to the surface of her face.

“No,” Nicole said quietly. Both sets of eyes snapped to her face. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she continued, “but you came very close to public indecency.” She stared hard in turn at the two of them until they looked down. Then, she sighed again. “Look, I know that you two probably don’t get a lot of privacy, so you came to find it out here.” They looked at her, surprise widening their eyes and she had to bite back a laugh. “Just, don’t find it by the side of the road next time? Because the next time I catch you two, I will call everyone I feel necessary, got it?”

Melissa broke out into a beautiful smile and nodded fiercely. Ben nodded too, relief stretching across his face.

“Good,” Nicole said. “Now, get out of here.”

There was a chorus of “Yes, Officer” and the two bolted to their car. Nicole watched them drive away with a smile on her face, waiting until they were nearly out of sight before returning to her own vehicle. Yet, as she drove away from the scene, she couldn’t help but think that Melissa had enjoyed the...activity in that car a lot more than Nicole ever had. The thought bothered her, as it always had whenever she was forced face to face with the issue. Physical intimacy was a roadblock for Nicole. _It’s not that I don’t like it_ , she reminded herself, _it’s just that I don’t love it or crave it._ Not for the first time, she found herself wondering if there was something wrong with her, and wondering why she couldn’t seem to make a relationship stick.

“You’re a cop,” she scolded herself out loud. “Dating a cop is hard, and that’s not your fault.” She nodded but the niggling doubts remained. After all, many of her fellow officers had nice marriages and she had even attended a female-only class in the academy about work-life balance. People made it work, that much was clear, but Nicole was never able to. Not that she had a particularly long track record, only three relationships in her life, and two of those in high school. Her most recent was during her schooling at the police academy. His name was Tyler, he was a medical student she met at 4 a.m. in a coffee shop. They bonded over the circles under their eyes and the coffee that had become their life lines in ways they could never have predicted. He straddled the line between cute and sexy with his warm blue eyes and his soft brown hair. He liked that Nicole wanted to be a cop, he liked her ambition and her drive because it so closely matched his own. He laughed at her jokes and took her out on dates to Panera Bread because it was relatively fast (hello impossible schedules) and cheap and Nicole could get a plethora of salads. He was kind and considerate and Nicole could not get excited over him, not physically. Which killed Nicole because she liked him a lot. When they first started dating, she even thought she would marry him. After all, how many men do you find who actually want to be with a woman cop?

Now, two years later, she recognized that last comment as one her mom would say, but the sentiment of feeling lucky that Tyler gave her a second look lingered. Nicole cursed and accelerated the cruiser, trying to force her brain to land on a different topic before the humiliating memories surfaced, but to no avail. Tyler’s face swam into her mind, the hurt and confusion making her stomach twist.

_“I just don’t understand, Nicole. We’ve been going out for eight months now and you still barely let me touch you. I don’t want to be a jerk or pressure you for anything you’re not ready for, but I get the feeling something’s wrong.” He peered at her with renewed concerned, his arms spread wide, his chiseled chest soft in the candlelight. Nicole took another step back, her hands twisting nervously in her police academy t-shirt. She couldn’t believe he went to all this trouble but the evidence; flowers, chocolate, the dinner he cooked, and soft music; all stared her in the face. Things had gone well up until this point, she arrived at his apartment ready for a quiet night in and he had surprised her with the dinner and flowers. His cooking was exceptional (even with the gluten free limitations) and they lingered for at least two hours over the meal. He took her hand and told her she was beautiful and led her to the couch where he presented the chocolates. He fed her one, and then another, and then he kissed her. The combination made her swoon more than she had in a long time, and she deepened the kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and he cradled her head in hands. She left hers where they had landed on his knees, content to just kiss him even if her mind threatened to wander to her grocery list._

_Before she knew it, he broke the kiss and pulled his t-shirt over his head. Nicole blushed, but leaned back as he tossed the shirt to the side, the look in his eyes turning from soft to predatory almost in a blink. She recognized the lust and her hands shook in what she thought was anticipation. When he reached for her, though, her body moved without her command, standing and stepping back. And now he was looking at her with that confusion, that rejection fresh on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked again._

_“I’m a virgin,” Nicole blurted out._

_“Oh,” Tyler said, shock settling on his face._

_Silence fell over the room and Nicole felt tears spring to her eyes. Tyler must have noticed them because he sprung to his feet and rushed to comfort her. “I’m sorry!” he exclaimed as he touched her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s totally cool—better than cool, actually.”_

_Nicole bit her lip. “You think so?”_

_He grinned. “Absolutely. We’ll take it slow, as long as you, ya know…want to?”_

_Nicole smiled, and her body thrummed with nervous energy. This what she wanted. Tyler was nice and good looking and she definitely wanted this. Definitely. “Yeah,” she said out loud, stepping closer to him and winding her arms around his neck. “I want to.”_

Nicole shuddered as the rest of the night came back to her, the pain and her confusion. _This isn’t what it’s supposed to be like_ , she remembered thinking. Tyler hadn’t forced her into anything, but even though he had used a lubricated condom it felt like her muscles were being shredded. By the first few strokes, Nicole was just wishing for it to be over. He held her afterward, and she was too exhausted from the experience to shy away from his hard, sweaty body.

_“Was it okay?” he asked._

_“Yes,” she lied. They lay like that for the rest of the night._

Nicole hadn’t been able to force herself to have sex with him again and they broke up two months later. It was a bad breakup, filled with anger and accusations, and it still brought tears to her eyes, because all she could think was, _what is wrong with me?_ The thought plagued her as she made her way back into town.

Nicole (thankfully) managed to shake the memories as she pulled in at the sheriff’s station and climbed out of the cruiser, spotting Waverly down the street. She smiled and started walking towards the small brunette, intending to thank her for the coffee, when a tall, brown-haired man stepped up to Waverly. He had tattoos on his arms and seemed to care a lot for his appearance, as his hair and clothing looked to be styled very deliberately. He smiled at Waverly, a cocky grin, and pulled her close. Nicole stopped in her tracks, watching the interaction unfold. Waverly smiled back at the man and gave him a hug and a kiss, which he quickly deepened. Nicole blushed at witnessing such an intimate moment.

_I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. I could’ve sworn she was…_

Nicole frowned at the unfinished thought as she turned and walked back towards the station. She didn’t want to interrupt Waverly if she was spending time with her boyfriend. Besides, she had some reports to write.

Down the street, Waverly broke away from Champ with a shake of her head. “Come on, Champ,” she said, “that’s enough.”

He laughed and tugged on her hands. “It’s never enough, babe,” he said.

Waverly raised an eyebrow at him. “Out in public? It definitely is. I’ve got a shift soon anyway, so I’ve got to get back to Shorty’s. I’ll see you around.”

Champ rolled his eyes but relinquished her hands. “You just let me know when you want me to come by,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Waverly just shook her head and waved as she walked away. “Bye, Champ.” She didn’t mind the rodeo clown most days, and he made for a convenient and pleasurable hookup, but he did grate on her nerves sometimes. She wasn’t a fan of lots of PDA with him, especially since Nicole had come to town. She shook her head, trying to shake the redhead from her thoughts. It was dangerous to think this way about a straight girl. This she knew from experience. She slipped into Shorty’s and threw a rag over her shoulder as she clocked in. Within seconds, she was serving her first round of beers for the night, sliding into the role of bartender like shrugging on a favorite coat. With all the craziness with Black Badge recently, she was glad to be back in the bar; it was safe and familiar. No confusing feelings about Bobo or Wynonna.

Waverly was just able to mask her mood swing as she served her most recent customers. She felt like a ball of contradictions. On the one hand, she wanted to break the Earp curse, to finally feel free, and she was happy that Wynonna was back in town and that they were moving back on the homestead. On the other hand, she felt like she could contribute more, and she wasn’t sure that Wynonna was in it for more than finding the Seven who attacked the property. The Seven who had been able to attack because of _her_. She listened to the next customer’s order with half an ear and then walked to the kitchen to drop it off. She felt the shame and guilt coil in her gut. Maybe she _should_ be the Black Badge mascot. Maybe consulting would be too much to trust her with. She grimaced and grabbed a new round of beers. The night before, sitting with Wynonna at the fire and admiring Henry’s butt, she had felt so hopeful, so happy. But the harsh light of day had a way of making her optimism sour into despair and self-doubt. Waverly sighed and checked her watch. Wynonna would be in soon to start moving her stuff. The world, as always, moved on even when she wasn’t ready. Maybe tomorrow would be better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole finds out more about Champ, much to her disgust, and Waverly tries to find her place in BBD. Mostly follows the events of episode 1x03, "Leavin' On Your Mind".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck guys, I know. I'm sorry this is so late! You see, I wrote an outline and I've mostly ignored it because this story apparently does what it wants. I hope you enjoy, I've tried to strike a balance between those scenes that happen in the show and those that I've created. I know that, as a reader, I don't typically enjoy reading scene-for-scene-line-for-line rehashes so I'm trying hard to avoid that. Let me know what you think, it does help motivate me to write when people reach out. You can also find me on tumbler at https://justoneofthosedays16.tumblr.com/.
> 
> Also, any dialogue/events you recognize from the show are works of genius that have nothing to do with me. I do not claim any of that. All of the subpar stuff? That's all me.

“Mom, things are going well, I promise.” Nicole bit back a groan of frustration as she barely avoided slamming the closet door on her cat’s tail.

“It’s just such a small town, Nicole,” Elizabeth, Nicole’s mother, said. “I mean, it’s hard enough to hold your position here at home where a female police officer is more…common. I just worry about the reception you must be getting.”

“Mom, really, people have been great.”

“And the men, what do they think!” Elizabeth continued as if Nicole hadn’t spoken. “If there are any worth taking a look at,” she amended with controlled disdain. She sighed, long and deep. “I just wish you would come back home. I miss you.”

Nicole’s heart twisted until it felt it was tearing itself in two. “I miss you too,” she admitted. “And no, besides those who are already married, I haven’t found any worth taking a look at.”

“Well, what about your new friend, Waverly was it?”

Nicole’s heart stopped and her mouth dropped. She wasn’t suggesting…?

“Surely, she must know someone decent available. Although, you said she was gay, didn’t you?”

“Uhhh, yeah, I thought she was, but I saw her with her boyfriend the other day, so I must have been wrong.”

“Then you should ask her, see if she knows anyone.”

Nicole sighed. There was no getting out of this. “I’ll ask her.” She checked the time on her phone. “Mom, I gotta go. Okay, uh huh, I love you too. Bye.” She tucked the phone in her pocket and looked at her cat, Calamity Jane. “I’m not going to ask her,” she assured the cat.

Calamity meowed and wound herself around Nicole’s legs.

“You just want food,” Nicole accused.

Calamity trotted towards her food bowl without shame. Nicole checked her phone again and resigned herself to being a few minutes late. The talk with her mom had gone longer than she’d anticipated. Then again, she hadn’t called in a while, so maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. Guilt tiptoed over her heart as she poured the cat food. She loved her mom, and they had a good relationship, but lately their conversations had been tense. _We used to be able to talk_ , she thought. A small voice answered: _You used to be the perfect daughter_. Nicole slammed the door on the cabinet where she stored the cat food. Calamity Jane pinned her with an accusing glare from just above her bowl.

“Sorry,” Nicole said. The cat didn’t even twitch. Nicole held up her hands and backed towards the door, grabbing her Stetson from its hook. “I’m going, I’m going! You can eat in peace.” She saw Calamity lower her head as she closed the door. “Ugh, my cat’s got me whipped,” Nicole muttered as she locked her apartment door.

Nicole _might_ have sped in order to get to the station on time, but she counted it as a victory when she clocked in on time under Nedley’s watchful eye. He grunted to signal he wanted her to hang around, so she stood in his office doorway while he finished a piece of paperwork.

“We just got a call about a disturbance at the Hardy ranch. Go check it out.”

“Of course,” Nicole said, trying to sound professional rather than excited. Nedley had never asked her on a case personally. From the look on Nedley’s face, she didn’t succeed.

“Today, Officer Haught,” he growled.

“Right,” Nicole said. She spun on her heel and went to find Brenda in dispatch.

Approximately 40 minutes later, Nicole arrived at the Hardy ranch and climbed from her cruiser. She checked her service pistol and grabbed her hat from the front seat before walking up to the house. It was decrepit with peeling blue paint and there were more than a few broken boards beneath Nicole’s feet as she made her way to the front door. A man answered when she knocked. His eyes were unfocused and Nicole could smell the alcohol on him from where she stood.

“Wha’ can I do for ya, officer?” the man mumbled.

“Are you George Hardy?” Nicole asked.

“Uh-huh,” he said, swaying in place.

“Mr. Hardy, we received a call about a disturbance, is everything all right?”

“Course,” he said. “I’m the only one in the house.”

“What about the barn, Mr. Hardy, would there be anyone out there?”

“Jus’ m’ son,” he said.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Nicole asked.

George shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Nicole tipped her hat and started out to the barn. She could hear yelling as she got closer. It sounded like a man and a woman. Nicole unbuttoned the strap from her holster, laying her hand on the butt of her pistol. By the time she was opening the barn door, she was wishing her hands were free to cover her ears.

“You goddamn cheating bastard, Champ Hardy!” The blonde woman was red with fury. And, she was throwing things; whatever she could get her hands on.

“Hey, woah!” exclaimed Champ as he dodged a bucket. “We were never,” he dodged again, “exclusive.”

“Exclusive!” the blonde shrieked. She grabbed a pitchfork.

“Drop it,” commanded Nicole, pulling her weapon.

Champ and the blonde both jumped and spun to face her, the pitchfork clattering to the ground. The blonde held her hands up and Champ imitated the move. “Who the fuck called the police,” he shouted.

“Probably your mom,” the blonde spat. “She’s always in our business.”

Champ was incensed. “You leave my mom out of this!”

According to Brenda, the caller was a woman, but Nicole moved past the question. “Now listen, what’s this about?” If anger tinged her voice because she recognized Waverly’s boyfriend and the thought of him cheating on her made her furious, well, Waverly was her friend and she could be mad on her behalf.

“This lowlife cheated on me, that’s what this is about!” The blonde snarled. “And with Waverly Earp, of all people.” She lowered her voice in accusation. “She screws girls, too, you know. Who knows where she’s been. I mean, really, could you find someone trashier?”

Nicole made a show of holstering her gun, because with the rage boiling in her gut, she had to.

“How many times do I have to say that we were never exclusive?” Champ shot back.

“Mr. Hardy,” Nicole interrupted before the argument could begin anew. “Please step outside and wait for me on your porch.”

Champ eyed his companion cautiously and edged past Nicole. A cold blast of wind announced his departure. Once the door was closed again, Nicole looked at the blonde woman who still had her hands up. “Miss…?” she ventured.

“Stillmen. Stephanie Stillmen.”

“Okay, Ms. Stillmen,” Nicole said, trying to control her breathing and disguise her rage. “I understand that you’re angry right now, and I understand why, but threatening Mr. Hardy with a pitchfork is not the way to handle this situation.”

Stephanie looked like she had to control her own anger, but she nodded.

Nicole nodded with her, keeping their eyes locked. “Now, look, I don’t see a reason for anything more than a warning for you both. Disputes are fine, but keep them civil and definitely without the threat of violence.”

“Okay, Officer,” Stephanie said. She looked like she had relaxed just a little so Nicole spared her further warnings.

“Good. Now, I have to go talk to Mr. Hardy. Do you have a ride if you need to leave?”

Stephanie nodded again. “My car is here,” she said.

“Okay, then. Have a good rest of your day,” Nicole said as she tipped her hat.

Stephanie was gone by the time Nicole finished giving her warning to Champ, and Nicole was glad for it because she was able to let her face darken like a thundercloud as she walked to her cruiser. “What a shitty morning,” she muttered as she climbed in and started the car. “What am I going to tell Waverly?”

 ***

Waverly winced as Dolls started collecting the research spread out over the table. “These will be great resources,” Dolls stated as he stacked up the folders Waverly had painstakingly created over the years. She had been so excited to present all of her findings to Wynonna and Dolls, to feel like she was contributing to the fight against the revenants. With every file Dolls picked up, however, the feeling faded, even as she tried to salvage the situation.

“Sorry, um, I spent years on that research, so—”

“Welcome to team ‘shut up and do what he says,’” Wynonna interrupted. She smiled with a sickly faux sweetness at the deputy marshal. “Sometimes we get donuts.”

A knock sounded at the door, sending Waverly into a panic as she tried to cover up the evidence of what they were working on. Dolls, ever composed, closed the cabinets where the basics of Waverly’s research were displayed. Then, striking a formal—almost military—pose as Waverly settled on trying to hide the rest behind her body, he called out, “enter.”

And in walked Nicole Haught, of course. As if Waverly wasn’t nervous enough already.

“Hey,” Nicole said, addressing Dolls. “You asked to be alerted whenever things come over the wire that seem…unusual?”

“Yeah, we’re coming. Thanks,” Dolls answered. He looked at Waverly. “Waverly, you’re dismissed.”

Crestfallen, Waverly looked down, but then she glanced at Nicole and the woman was so beautiful she couldn’t help but smile. Dolls looked between the two of them for a moment, but then walked out without making further remarks or demands. Nicole dodged him as he passed through the doorway and gave Waverly a small smile as she closed the door. Waverly took a second to collect herself ( _those dimples!)_ before turning back to Wynonna. “So, that’s it?”

“He’s not really the ‘let’s go for drinks and celebrate’ type,” Wynonna explained as she too started to exit. “You did great!” she added, giving Waverly a high-five (or, half of one since she was still holding her donut) as she passed her.

Waverly sighed as the door closed behind her sister. “Sure,” she said to herself as she gathered up the files Dolls had missed. A photo slipped out of one and fell to the floor. “Oh!” Waverly exclaimed, bending over to retrieve it. “Ha! Get back here, Doc Holliday,” she said as she straightened and glanced at the photo. The name trailed off as she stared at the picture, and Henry’s face stared back at her. “Ohhh shit!”

She needed to get to the bottom of this, and—she checked her watch and sighed—she needed to get back to Shorty’s. Fortunately for Waverly, the object of her curiosity stopped by soon after she returned to work, specifically to talk to her about local history.

“Oh, so that’s why you’re here? You’re writing a book?” Waverly put on her best quizzical face as she let Doc believe he was deceiving her.

“On frontier life. But I am lately stumped. I seek the name and likeness of a figure once prominent in these parts,” he said with a hint of genuine frustration.

Ever excited for the chance to show off her research, and for the chance to figure out what Doc was up to, Waverly held up a finger. “Well, I have collected almost _every_ back issue of the _Ghost River Chronicle_. A bit of a local history nut myself. So this guy you’re looking for—”

“It’s a woman,” Doc interjected.

“Ok,” Waverly noted as she dug through her files. “Oh, here we go,” she said, holding up the prize with a smile. “Look familiar? Big Nose Kate.” She handed the newspaper to Doc for inspection. “Longtime companion of a famous gunslinger…” she drew out the last word, hoping for a reaction.

Doc did not give her one, instead passing back the old edition. “Not the filly I’m looking for. Think blonde. Think striking.” He devolved, as he was wont to do, into gazing into the distance and punctuating his words with dramatic hand gestures.

“Men always do,” Waverly muttered. Hence, why she generally preferred women. Redheaded women.

“Why don’t you look up the ‘last spike’ ceremony? I may recall her being there—so I’ve read,” Doc suggested, oblivious to Waverly’s internal struggle not to think about Nicole as he tried to cover up his own blunders.

Waverly pretended like she didn’t hear him essentially admit his age. “Of course. Okay, May, 1882. Nope, no photos.” She handed him the newspaper again. “Recognize any names?”

Doc looked at the paper and then glanced at Waverly. “Well, I appreciate the help,” he said, folding the paper and returning it to her, “but I best be heading off.”

“Oh,” Waverly said as she accepted the newspaper. She wanted to press the issue, but her phone rang. She clicked ignore on the unknown number and leaned back over the bar. “So, if I do find anything, where are you staying?”

Doc gave her a very stern look. “A place young ladies should not venture. A trailer park, proprietered by one Bobo Del Rey.”

Waverly felt her blood freeze. “Oh.”

Doc tipped his hat. “Much obliged, ma’am,” he said before walking away.

The part of Waverly’s brain processing the new information was frozen, but the other part was still trying to figure out what Doc was doing. Waverly grabbed the newspaper and a pen which she uncapped. “Okay,” she said to herself, and she began taking notes on everything on the front page.

***

Nicole pulled up to the hostage situation just behind Nedley. She got out of her car, intending to march into whatever powwow the deputy marshal was having with Wynonna, but Nedley stopped her with a shake of his head. Nicole put her hands on her hips and sighed. There was something weird going on with the Black Badge Division, and despite her moment of Zen the day before, she was already tired of being excluded again. She watched Wynonna hand over her gun (what was the deal with that thing, anyway?) and walk into the surplus store with just a phone; a brave, ballsy move even with Dolls, Nedley and Nicole backing her up with firearms. Nicole felt a sliver of fear run up her back on Waverly’s behalf—Nicole knew she would be devastated if anything happened to Wynonna. Almost as soon as the assailant pulled Wynonna into the building, Dolls’ phone rang. He answered and started pacing as he talked to, presumably, the hostage takers. The call didn’t last long, and it ended with a litany of threats from Dolls, but soon after, three hostages were released.

Nicole couldn’t stand the waiting any longer. She walked up to Dolls.“What’s the plan, Deputy Marshal?”

“We surround the store. You get a clear shot, let me know.”

“Okay,” she said, mildly surprised he was agreeing to include her.

“We hear shots, we go in,” he elaborated. He offered the phone he had just used. “Call Waverly, tell her that her sister’s in a situation.”

Nicole nodded as she accepted the deputy’s phone but squinted when she saw a familiar truck down the street. “Hey, isn’t that Champ’s truck?”

“Waverly’s boyfriend?”

“Unfortunately.” Nicole sighed in frustration and moved away to make the call.

 ***

“Shit!” Waverly cursed as she stalked out of Shorty’s. She couldn’t believe Doc was siding with Bobo. Doc was Wyatt’s _best friend_ , why would he help a revenant? Especially after what Bobo did to her family. What Waverly did. Tears, hot and painful poured from her eyes, and she had to dip into an alleyway to collect herself. Just when she had started to feel useful again in the fight against the curse, none other than Doc fuckin’ Holliday himself had to go and remind her that she was nothing but the heir’s pitiful little sister. “Damn it,” she whispered, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes. She focused on her breathing and tried to think of the morning, when Dolls had praised her research. _I am useful. I can help Wynonna break the curse. I am useful._ She repeated the thoughts to herself until she finally calmed. Once her breath returned to normal, she checked her phone and found the missed call from Dolls that had busted her in the trailer park and an accompanying voicemail. She had forgotten all about it in the rush to get away from Doc’s bullets. A smile stole across her face unbidden when she heard Nicole’s voice, but it quickly fled when she heard the intent of the message: Wynonna had been taken hostage. No longer caring about whatever the _fuck_ Doc Holliday was doing with Bobo Del Rey, she sprinted to her Jeep.

By the time Waverly reached the surplus store, it had already been vacated by the revenants and their hostages. Nicole walked toward her as she hopped out of the Jeep, her face sad and serious. “Waverly, I’m so sorry,” she said as the two met in the street.

“It’s not your fault,” Waverly said, wiping tears from her face. “They’ll be okay, Wynonna will make sure of it.”

Nicole nodded and stuck her hands in her pockets. “Dolls will, too,” she said. “He went after them. He won’t let Wynonna get hurt.”

Waverly sniffled and nodded, trying to block out the guilt and shame that wallowed in the pit of her stomach. “This is all my fault,” she said. The tears started to escape faster.

Nicole frowned. “Waverly, this is not your fault.”

Waverly curled her arms around herself and hunched forward. Nicole started, lifting a hand from her pocket like she was going to reach out, but she stopped herself. The gesture was enough, though, to open the floodgates. “It is my fault,” Waverly hiccupped. “It’s all my fault. I’m the researcher, I gather the information, and I let them know what they’re up against so things like this don’t happen! God, I’m so stupid!”

“Hang on, now, Waverly Earp,” Nicole said. “You are many things, but you are not stupid. I don’t know if there was any information you could have provided to prevent this, but I doubt it. And, even if there was, this is why you have Dolls’ and Wynonna’s help. This is why you’re a team. This is what teams do.”

Waverly locked eyes with Nicole for a moment before another sob wrenched out of her. “I know, I know, but you just…you don’t understand. Even before today this was my fault.”

Nicole cocked her head and stepped closer. “You’re right,” she said, “I don’t understand. So, come over here and sit down with me so you can explain it.”

“I don’t think I can,” Waverly whispered. But, oh she wanted to. Nicole’s brown eyes were so full of concern and…a willingness, a _desire_ to listen.

“Please try. We’re friends, right?” Nicole asked.

Waverly smiled, briefly, for the first time since listening to the voicemail. “Yeah,” she said, “we’re friends.”

Nicole smiled then, and it was so beautiful it made Waverly’s heart ache. “Good. Friends listen to each other. You don’t have to tell me any details that you don’t want to share, but something is bothering you and I’d like to help. Come on.” She motioned Waverly over to a bench on the sidewalk. Waverly watched Nicole walk over to the bench and sit down. Then, Nicole just looked at her, as if waiting for the predetermined outcome. Waverly sighed, but joined her, burying her head in her scarf. “So, what did you mean it was your fault before today?” Nicole asked after a moment of silence.

Waverly looked down at her hands before speaking, and even then she chose her words carefully so they came out in short bursts. “When I was little…bad things happened…to my family…and I…I learned recently that I…….I did something, and if….if I hadn’t done it….those bad things wouldn’t have happened.”

Nicole looked like she hadn’t been expecting _quite_ so vague, despite Waverly’s warning. Still, she asked, “How little?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you were little,” Nicole clarified. “How old were you?”

“Five, maybe six,” Waverly answered, squinting as she tried to remember. The horrors of that night were seared into her mind, but it stood out in sharp clarity compared to the fuzzy, abstract memories of her early childhood.

“Waves,” Nicole said, “whatever you did, you can’t blame yourself. You were a child, _barely_ a child.”

Waverly didn’t disagree on a logical level, but she still shook her head in denial of Nicole’s absolution.

Nicole seemed to understand and so tried a different tact. “Did you do it because you wanted to hurt someone?”

“N—no,” Waverly whispered. “I was tricked by someone else. I wanted to make my family happy.”

“So you didn’t do it by yourself?”

“I did the…work, but because someone else asked me to.”

“Exactly.” Nicole nodded for emphasis as she turned in her seat to face Waverly fully. She reached out and took Waverly’s hand, though she was hesitant. “Waverly, you were a _kid_ and someone took advantage of you. Whatever bad came out of it is their fault, not yours. I know it’s hard to believe. It took me a long time to believe it, too.”

“What do you mean?” Waverly asked.

Nicole smiled sadly. “When I was little—six, I think— I had an uncle that I didn’t see a lot. He and my dad didn’t really get along, but he was always so nice to us kids. One day, he came by when it was just me and my mom in the house. I saw him pull up so I ran out to meet him.”

Waverly’s eyes were round, and her lips parted in horror. “He didn’t…hurt you?”

“Oh!” Nicole exclaimed, “Oh, no, no it’s nothing like that. He asked if my parents were around. I told him momma was out back in the garden. I asked if he wanted me to go get her. He told me no, he just needed our house key—that he was getting it for daddy. We had a copy on a hook in the kitchen; all the kids knew where it was. So, I went and got it for him. He thanked me, told me I was a good girl and not to worry momma about it, and drove away. He came back later to give it back; I don’t remember how much time had passed, but it probably wasn’t much. I put it back on the hook and never mentioned it to either of my parents. Two weeks later, we went on vacation and he used a copy of the key to walk into our house and steal everything he could get his hands on. The TV, all of momma’s jewelry, everything that was valuable: thousands of dollars’ worth. My parents were devastated and it hit us hard financially. It eventually all got sorted, but that took time, and for a while, things were hard. I blamed myself for that, for my family’s suffering, for a long time.”

“Nicole, that’s awful!” Waverly said.

“It was,” Nicole said. “I trusted him, and he used me. But, just like you, I was a child, and he took advantage of that. I don’t know what happened to your family, and I don’t know what you did, but please, please believe me. Waverly,” Nicole’s grip tightened on Waverly’s hands and she waited until Waverly looked her in the eye to continue. “It wasn’t your fault, I promise.”

Waverly’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel her heart breaking itself down into a bleeding well of compassion for that little girl with an imaginary friend (who wasn’t so imaginary) called Bobo. A little girl with a Daddy who never remembered her birthday and a cruel older sister. A lonely little girl, despite Wynonna’s best efforts. It was compassion she had never let herself feel, and never really saw on anyone besides Gus until Nicole. Nicole who was sitting next to her, holding her hands and talking to her and trying to make her feel better about something she had done as a kid. Nicole, beautiful Nicole, who had called her when Wynonna walked into the surplus store because she knew that Waverly would want to know, who was being the best friend imaginable. Waverly teared up, even as she smiled a full and real smile. “Thank you, for listening.”

Nicole smiled. “Of course, that’s what friends are for.” She carefully released Waverly’s hands and returned hers to her pockets.

“Right,” Waverly said, just as her phone started ringing. She looked at it and exclaimed, “It’s Wynonna!” and answered it. “Wynonna! Are you okay? Oh, good, I was so worried—what? What do you mean…what? No!” She looked at Nicole, devestated. “Shorty’s dead.”

 ***

The memorial for Shorty came together with the speed and ferocity befitting a man who was well loved by everyone in Purgatory. Even Nicole was able to attend, though she did so on active duty. That didn’t matter much to her; she was new to town and hadn’t gotten the chance to get to know Shorty. She really just wanted to see Waverly. She found her leaning on the bar, her eyes red and puffy from tears.

“Waverly,” Nicole said as she walked up. “I’m so sorry.” It felt too familiar to be saying that again so soon, and Nicole didn’t like it.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.” Waverly’s voice broke on the last word and her breath hitched.

Nicole reached out without even thinking about it, taking Waverly’s hands like she had the day before. They were warm and soft and Nicole looked down at them to give Waverly a moment.

A moment that Champ interrupted.

“Oh, it’s okay,” he soothed as he swept Waverly into an awkward hug and started kissing her cheek.

Nicole pulled her hands back and stared determinedly at a spot just past the couple.

“Hey, um…okay stop, Champ,” Waverly said, pushing him.

Nicole was ready to vault over the bar if he didn’t, memorial be damned. But, he did stop, settling on just draping his arm over her instead. Waverly reached out to Nicole’s hands. “Hey, I forgot to thank you for leaving that voicemail. It was really sweet.”

Nicole looked at Waverly, and then at Champ, who looked at her as if daring her to say something about their “chat” the previous morning. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “Of course.” Then, she forced herself to walk away, before she said something she would regret. If she were to confront Waverly about Champ’s cheating, Shorty’s memorial was certainly not the time to do so. So, instead she found the deputy marshal and asked him about the time capsule murders. Unsurprisingly, it was like trying to glean information from a brick wall, and the conversation only left her more frustrated, a feeling that only dulled when she saw Waverly walk over to her sister. At least that had turned out right. She knew Shorty’s death was hard on Waverly, but she had Wynonna and that was the most important thing.

Nicole didn’t notice Dolls watching her watch Waverly.

“I should make my rounds again,” Nicole said, turning back to Dolls. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Deputy Marshal.”

He nodded, a strange look in his eyes, and she walked away. She checked around the bar and then made a sweep outside, her hands resting on her belt. She had surprised herself earlier, when she had grabbed Waverly’s hands. She normally didn’t touch people at all. Even hugs at home were sparse, just for big hellos and goodbyes. Physical contact usually just made her feel awkward; she didn’t know how to initiate it or receive it most of the time. Holding Waverly’s hands, though, that’d been natural. Twice. It’d been natural twice. _She was upset, grieving, both times_ , she told herself with a frown. _Anyone would have held her hands, don’t be stupid_.

Nicole sighed as she completed her lap around the building. She still had six hours left on her shift and she already felt drained. _At least Nedley promised me overtime pay_. She paused at the door leading back into Shorty’s. _I should do another lap_. If she were looking to cause trouble, today would be a good day, what with most of Purgatory being distracted by the memorial. Her boots crunched the snow as she walked, and it lulled her into a rhythm, so she almost missed the sound of the scuffle as she turned the corner. She did catch it though, so she spun to investigate the next alley over. She found two men, one gripping the other by the collar, having hauled him up to the wall. The assailer was tattooed, with long greasy hair and a bandanna wrapped around his head. He was dressed like every low-life that hung around the trailer park owned by Bobo Del Rey, and he apparently conducted business like him too, if the cheap suit worn by the other man was anything to go by.

“Now you listen here, if you don’t get us those permits—” the tattooed man snarled.

“Gentlemen,” Nicole called out. “Is there a problem?”

The suit-wearing man was on the ground in a flash, still trembling from his ordeal. The tattooed man answered, a smarmy smile on his face. “No, of course not, Officer. We were just talkin’.”

Nicole kept her face as neutral as possible. “A little cold to be talkin’ out here. Why don’t you take it over to the diner, get you both some coffee.”

“Thank you, Officer, but no. I think we’re done here anyway, isn’t that right, Carl?”

Carl nodded hard and started to edge away from the tattooed man. He shot a fearful look at Nicole and fled down the alley, breaking into a kind of trot in his haste. The tattooed man let out a bark of laughter and smirked again at Nicole. “Have a good day, Officer.”

“Likewise,” Nicole murmured, watching him as he straightened out his leather vest. She tensed when he turned, though; because she saw his eyes flash red, as if he was possessed.

Nicole put her hands back on her belt. Something was definitely going on in Purgatory, and Deputy Dolls or not, she was going to figure out what it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear Champ will go away at some point.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly and Nicole hang out at the homestead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so unbelievably late! Life has been hard for me the last few weeks--I'm still recovering from debilitating injuries I received during a car accident in December, and I'm finding it hard to deal with it emotionally--and on top of that my mom came to visit for a week so I got nothing done. This is my longest chapter so far, though, so maybe that makes up for it? *shrugs*
> 
> Just to let you know, this chapter is where certain things begin to diverge from canon, mainly concerning Waverly and Champ. As they're not really "dating" in this fic, they don't really "break up" during the events of episode 6. This chapter covers chapters 4, 5, and 6, but not to a huge amount of detail. I hope you enjoy, and I'm really hoping to get the next chapter up in a timely manner. As always, kudos and comments make my day, and you can hit me up on tumblr as well if you prefer (justoneofthosedays16). Thank you for reading!
> 
> Any dialogue/events you recognize from the show are works of genius that have nothing to do with me. I do not claim any of that. All of the subpar stuff? That’s all me.

Waverly was nervous. The good kind of nervous; she changed her clothes at least three times, shaved more hair than was strictly necessary, and cleaned the homestead until it was spotless—no small feat considering Wynonna was her roommate. It scared the shit out of her. Nicole was coming over, and Nicole—her _straight_ friend—should not warrant, _could_ not warrant these sorts of nerves. And yet, here Waverly was, scrubbing the kitchen counter for the tenth time that morning. _I am so fucked_ , she thought. She glanced at the clock; eleven a.m., Nicole would be there any—

On cue, a knock sounded.

Waverly threw the rag she was using towards the trash and dashed to the door. The sight waiting for her on the other side took her breath away. Nicole, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans under a winter coat that nearly reached her knees, smiled and held up a bottle of wine. “Hey,” she said. “House-warming gift. I thought if it was wine, Wynonna might share.”

Waverly laughed. “I have a better chance of it, that’s for sure,” she said, accepting the bottle and letting Nicole in. _Yep, so screwed_ , she thought as Nicole took off her coat, revealing _very_ toned arms. “I just made some coffee, if you’d like some,” Waverly said.

“Yeah,” Nicole said, nodding. “Coffee sounds great, it’s _really_ cold out.”

“It doesn’t get any better,” Waverly warned her as they walked into the kitchen and Waverly poured the coffee.

“I know,” groaned Nicole. She buried her head in her arms on the table. “Everyone at the station keeps teasing me.”

“Could be worse,” Waverly offered. She kept her tone light but, somehow, Nicole knew, because she picked up her head and locked her eyes on Waverly’s.

“I’m sure,” was all she said, though, and she broke the moment by sipping on her coffee. “Plus, that’s why they make coats, right? And the sheriff’s department doesn’t skimp on their coats; those things are super warm.”

“Well, I’m sure they don’t want their deputies freezing to death.”

“It is a lot of paperwork,” Nicole mused, making Waverly laugh. Nicole smiled in response. “I’m glad you’re smiling again,” she noted. “How have you been doing since Shorty passed?”

Waverly usually hated when people danced around the various forms of the word “death”. They were almost always trying to avoid distress in someone else because they wanted to avoid dealing with it, not out respect for someone else’s feelings. Not Nicole, though, she was too direct for that, too compassionate. She held Waverly’s gaze as she said it, and her eyes were careful and searching and kind all at once.

“Uhh, not so great,” Waverly admitted. “These last few weeks have been hard.”

 _And non-stop_ , she thought to herself. It seemed like the hostage taking at the surplus store had kicked off an open season for the revenants. The crazy barber had been the first to come out of the woodwork, and that had been painful for everyone involved, if only because so many secrets were involved. Wynonna keeping Doc’s existence from Dolls, Waverly getting shut out of the investigation yet again, and that moment when Wynonna discovered that her baby sister had studied ancient languages—and that other moment when the truth came out: “I should be the heir!”

“Yeah, you should,” Wynonna had said, and the look in her eyes still made Waverly’s gut twist when she thought about it. It wasn’t fair, to either of them, Waverly knew that now, but even after the barber was back in hell, it wasn’t easy to see.

_Wynonna found Waverly researching at her desk. “Sorry,” she said as paused at the doorway._

_Waverly considered the apology for a moment, before clarifying, “You ate all the corn chips again?”_

_“No,” Wynonna said without thinking. Then a moment later: “Yeah.” She drew out the word a little playfully before reverting back to her earlier tone. “I’m serious. I’m really sorry about being the heir.”_

_Waverly scoffed. “I only said that because Vidal Sassoon would’ve killed you if I didn’t find something to be mad at you about. I didn’t actually mean it.”_

_“Yeah you did,” Wynonna replied, deciding to be perceptive for once in her life._

_“Well, it was a stupid thing to say.” Waverly could no longer figure out who she was madder at, herself or Wynonna._

_“Okay,” Wynonna said, producing a bottle from behind her back and shaking it in front of Waverly. “We’re gonna do this the hard way.”_

_Waverly looked at the bottle in shock. “The bubblegum sake I imported from Japan—Hey!” she exclaimed as Wynonna opened the bottle and took a sip._

_“Oh, that’s gross!” Wynonna declared._

_“It’s unique.” Waverly corrected._

_“Try it,” Wynonna challenged._

_Waverly took a sip. It was gross; cloying and sweet and sour all at once with an unpleasant burn at the finish. “See? Not-not so bad,” Waverly lied. She felt like the cough afterward may have given her away, though._

_“Wave,” Wynonna said, “it’s okay to just be honest. For once.”_

_Waverly took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, defeat coloring her voice._

_Wynonna slid down the wall and watched her sister. She looked more vulnerable than Waverly could ever remember seeing her. “I spent years compiling research on the revenants,” Waverly began, scribbling aimlessly on a piece of paper. “I did a four-year university degree by correspondence on ancient cultures and languages because I thought that maybe, maybe I could break the curse.” She looked at Wynonna, no longer able to disguise her pain and her anger. “And you, who’s never tried to be good at anything in life, got to be the special one,” she took a deep breath, “while I just got to be Waverly.”_

_“Who everybody loves because you’re so awesome,” Wynonna responded immediately._

_Waverly sighed, and put her pen down, because it wasn’t enough to be loved. You could be loved and still not be important._

_But Wynonna wasn’t done. “I mean, you have a million reasons to hate me, and you still love me. It’s what I love about you, dude.”_

_Damnit. Waverly could never resist her sister. “Pass me the booze,” she said._

_Wynonna handed the sake over and watched as Waverly opened it. “Isn’t this the part where you say you love me too?” she asked with a grin._

_Waverly took a drink from the bottle wincing against the taste. “You know,” she said, “you’re awfully needy, for a lone wolf.”_

No, Waverly hadn’t realized it then, how much being the heir drained Wynonna. She felt like she barely understood it now, but at least she was moving past her jealousy. Besides, who could be jealous when they got to have coffee with Nicole Haught?

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nicole asked, her face sympathetic.

Waverly took a deep breath. “Shorty was like a second father to me after my Uncle Curtis. He gave me my first job, and he always made sure I was okay. Always. And he looked after Wynonna, too, whenever she was in town. He was practically the only person in town besides me who didn’t judge her, who saw her as a person.”

“I only met him once, but he was very nice,” Nicole offered. “I never heard a bad word about him.”

“People loved him,” Waverly agreed. “It’s hard, being at the bar without him. Gus makes it better, but she’s already grieving for Curtis and losing Shorty on top of it has been really hard for her.”

“You do that a lot, don’t you?” Nicole interrupted.

“Do what?” Waverly asked, confused.

“Deflect to others’ feelings when you’re in pain. You put them first.”

Waverly looked down at her coffee, unsure how to respond.

Inwardly, Nicole cursed herself. “I didn’t mean that as a bad thing,” she clarified. “It’s selfless; it’s one of the things I like best about you.” The smile the comment earned was brilliant and Nicole felt her breath catch. “But, Waverly, this was hard on you too, and I’m worried that you’re putting others before yourself and never taking care of _you_. I mean, your sister and your boyfriend were both hostages! I know that was really hard for you, and it must have been scary.”

“It was,” Waverly admitted, staring just past Nicole into the living room, then, she shook her head as if coming out of a dream. “Wait, boyfriend?”

“Yeah, your boyfriend, Champ?” Nicole said slowly.

Waverly stared at her as if she had suggested the color blue was a conspiracy theory. “Champ’s not my boyfriend.”

“But he—you—at the memorial,” Nicole floundered, thoroughly confused.

Waverly laughed. “Oh, that. I’m so sorry, Nicole, I thought you knew about Champ. He and I aren’t dating, we’re just friends with occasional benefits.”

Nicole could feel her face heating to match her hair. “Oh, well—that’s—that’s—well.”

Waverly didn’t seem to notice Nicole’s discomfort. “Well, even ‘friends’ may be pushing it a bit. He’s great in bed and all, but he can be annoying,” she said, squinting at the ceiling.

Nicole coughed, wishing she had whiskey in her coffee—or maybe just whiskey. She took a deep breath. _At least she’s not actually dating that jackass_ , she thought. _I guess he was really serious about that non-exclusive thing with the Stillmen girl._ “Champ aside, I know you were scared for Wynonna. I couldn’t imagine if my sister got mixed up in something like that.”

“You have a sister?” Waverly asked.

“Yeah: Jaime. She’s four years younger than me. She’s a pain,” Nicole explained, though she smiled to let Waverly know she wasn’t _too_ serious.

“Younger sisters are supposed to be a pain,” Waverly said, shrugging. “Willa and Wynonna always thought I was.”

“So, Wynonna was the middle child?” asked Nicole. She skirted around the name Willa; she had heard enough around town to know it was subject full of pain.

“As middle as they come,” Waverly confirmed.

“Explains the alcohol,” Nicole said, flashing a grin.

Waverly laughed, covering her hand and collapsing back in her seat. Warmth spread through Nicole at the sight, and she found herself wishing she could make Waverly laugh more.

Waverly shook her head as her laughter subsided. “I think the drinking is more of an Earp thing, actually.”

“Waverly Earp,” Nicole said in a low, mocking voice, “are you telling me you indulge in the devil’s drink?”

Waverly blushed.

Nicole cocked an eyebrow. “Waves, I was kidding,” she said. “You’re not embarrassed—”

“No, no, of course not,” Waverly said, her eyes wide. “I’m a bartender. I can drink Wynonna under the table if I want to. Without shame,” she said pointedly. “The coffee just made me hot.”

Nicole decided not to point out that Waverly hadn’t touched her coffee in at least five minutes. “So what is your favorite drink?” she asked. “I’ve always wanted to ask a bartender that.”

“Whiskey,” Waverly answered. “It’s a great go-to, with or without mixers. Sometimes I think it’s the only sign that Wynonna and I are sisters. What about you?”

“Usually beer, but bourbon if I’m drinking liquor.”

A slow smile spread across Waverly’s face, and it made Nicole nervous. “I can’t imagine you drunk, Nicole Haught.”

It was Nicole’s turn to blush, and she couldn’t get past the fluster to examine why. “I’m a very nice drunk, if you must know. But, you’re never going to see me drunk, so you can just shut down those schemes you’ve got going on in your head,” Nicole demanded.

“Aww, why not?” Waverly whined.

“Because Purgatory is too small and I will be ridiculed and I will never hear the end of it,” Nicole said.

“So...what you’re saying is that we need to leave Purgatory and get you drunk,” Waverly said.

Nicole stared at her. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying you’ll never see me drunk.”

“You’re friends with an Earp now, it comes with the territory,” Waverly teased.

Nicole felt that same warm feeling flood through her and she shook her head. “No way, Waves, it’s not going to happen.”

Waverly just smiled. “Well, if you’re not going to drink with me, tell me how things are going for you. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Slow,” Nicole admitted. _And weird_ , she thought to herself. The last few weeks had definitely been weird.

_Nicole looked at the tenth stack of paperwork for the day and sighed. Ever since the hostage situation at the surplus store, Nedley had seemed determined to keep her away from anything substantial. The closest she had come to a BBD case in two weeks was running plates for the deputy marshal. Still, the more she dug around at the station, the more she found to convince her that something was going on in Purgatory. How many animal attacks could one town have, anyway? And then there were the recent cases, reports of citizens running around confessing sins, a murderer that disappeared after slitting his victims’ throats, and Black Badge had even called in a raid of Bobo Del Rey’s trailer park. The look on Dolls’ face when they returned told her all she needed to know about that, though. She didn’t blame him on trying the raid, though, it wasn’t a secret in the PD that something was going on in that trailer park—Nicole knew that the running theory was weapons—but no one had any hard evidence. In fact…Nicole craned her neck to look down the hallway. The coast was clear, so she stood and told Brenda she was chasing a lead and, pretending she didn’t hear her ask which lead, she walked out into the hallway. The incident outside of Shorty’s memorial still bothered her. She was starting to think she was crazy, but she distinctly remembered the tattooed man’s eyes turning red and she felt in her gut that her mind was not playing tricks on her. Despite this, she was more interested in the man he’d threatened at the moment: Carl Littol. Nicole had done some digging and found him listed as part of the commercial building department, which was located at the basement level in the town hall. She found him eating lunch in his tiny office, wearing the same suit as when he was threatened. He paled when he saw her, nearly dropping his sandwich in his lap._

_“O-Officer,” he stuttered. “What can I do for you?”_

_“Mr. Littol,” she greeted, removing her Stetson. “I just wanted to check up on you after the incident at Shorty’s last week. How are you holding up?”_

_“I’m…I’m not sure I understand what you’re referring to, Officer.” Carl’s eyes flicked to the doorway, as if he were trapped._

_Nicole shrugged, as if his denial didn’t bother her. “It looked like you and the other man were having a disagreement about permits of some sort. Did you forget to deliver his, or something?”_

_Carl didn’t answer for a minute, he just kept looking at the doorway and swallowing. “No, Officer,” he finally said. “Alan had put in a request for some permits, and I hadn’t gotten the chance to look them over. He was just asking about their status.”_

_“Are they approved?” Nicole asked._

_“I’m sorry?”_

_“Did you approve the permits?”_

_He swallowed again. “Yes, Officer, everything was in order.”_

_“Uh huh,” Nicole said. “Well that’s good news. What kind of permits were they?”_

_Carl hesitated for a long time before realizing he had no way around the question. “Digging permits, Officer.”_

_Nicole nodded. “Well, Carl, I’m glad you’re doing all right. I appreciate your time. Have a good afternoon.” She tipped her hat and left, reasonably pleased with the information she had gleaned. The only question was; what could Bobo Del Rey want with digging permits?_

“Slow weeks suck,” Waverly said, breaking Nicole away from her thoughts. “We don’t usually get them at the bar except around Christmas and Easter. Everyone is trying to be on their best behavior, and their wives don’t include drinking in that category,” she explained. “It’s the worst, nothing to do and nothing interesting happens.”

“Nothing interesting?” Nicole countered. “Come on, there’s got to be a good story or two, especially if it involves alcohol and Easter.”

Waverly chuckled and sipped her coffee. “There is one,” she said, her eyes bright. “It actually involved a red-head.”

“Impossible,” Nicole said. “I would know if there was another red-head in town.”

“Oh, there’s not,” Waverly said with a smirk. “She left shortly after all of this, and they only let in one at a time, you know,” she teased.

“Funny, Waves,” Nicole said, “real funny.”

“Don’t worry,” Waverly responded breezily, “I prefer you anyway, you’re much prettier.”

Nicole blushed and looked down at her hands. When she had the courage to glance back up, Waverly was looking at her from over top of her coffee cup as she sipped it. Her eyes were bright, matching her smirk as she lowered the cup. Nicole coughed and rubbed the back of her neck. She was usually pretty good at taking compliments, but this was different somehow; the way Waverly looked at her was _more_ somehow. It left her stalling and stuttering, which only served to amuse Waverly. Catching sight of the other woman’s snickering; Nicole finally pulled herself together and scowled. “Quit laughing at me,” she grumbled.

Waverly only laughed louder. “I can’t help it; you’re adorable.”

Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “No one’s called me that since I was six.”

“Really? Not even a boyfriend?”

Nicole chuckled. “I think adorable strayed too far from sexy. They called me a lot of things, but they all more or less had to do with sex.”

Waverly snorted and rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

“Most of them were,” Nicole agreed. “It’s hard to find much else in high school. The last one, though, we dated a couple of years ago. He was…” she paused as her mind flitted back to Tyler’s bare chest in the candlelight, “he was a man. Though, he never called me adorable either so…” she grinned, trying to wipe her mind with the joke.

Waverly seemed to catch on. “A boy-man, then,” she said. “Yep, I’ve been there.” She chuckled. “It’s the worst.”

Nicole raised an eyebrow. “You mean like Champ?”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “Yes, like Champ. In fairness, we only actually dated once in high school and it didn’t last long.”

Nicole gasped in mock shock. “No! What happened?”

“Well, I met this really pretty girl in my algebra class and that was pretty much it for Champ,” Waverly said.

Nicole laughed. “Wow, that almost seems harsh.”

Waverly shrugged before locking eyes with Nicole. “Well, when I see something I like I don’t want to wait.”

Nicole’s breath froze in her throat and for the third time in maybe twenty minutes, she felt the flush crawling up her face. “That’s…um…that’s a good policy,” she managed to mumble. _God, why can’t I talk around this girl?_

“It’s worked for me so far,” Waverly said as if Nicole wasn’t floundering like a guppy out of water. Her body hummed in anticipation as she watched the redhead take a gulp of her coffee as if it would save her from having to respond further. Waverly was tired of denying her feelings for Nicole. Besides, what harm could a little flirting do? As long as she didn’t get too invested, and as long as she reminded herself that _nothing_ would happen, she would be fine. And, it felt good to finally flirt with Nicole, though she clearly didn’t know how to handle it. _I wonder if she even knows I’m hitting on her_ , Waverly mused. She watched Nicole struggle to regain her composure, enjoying the confidence coursing through her. It had been in short supply, recently.

_Bobo was leaning back against the wall when Waverly entered the interrogation room. “It’s about time,” he said. “I’m starved. Just leave it on the table.”_

_“I’m not your lunch,” Waverly answered prompting a quick change of positions from the revenant. “Least I hope not.”_

_“Well, come in, come in,” Bobo said. He sounded surprised, but also as if he was pleased by Waverly’s unexpected appearance. “To what do I owe—”_

_“Who told you I was watching you?” Waverly demanded, cutting him off. “Huh? Nobody else knew where I was. Nobody.”_

_Bobo just looked at her._

_“You’re shorter than I remember,” Waverly added._

_Bobo switched positions, leaning forward and slapping his hand on the table. Waverly jerked back, plastering herself against the wall. “And you’re taller than I remember,” Bobo said, smirking at her. He kicked the opposing chair from beneath the table towards her. “Sit.”_

_Waverly sat. Bobo rattled his chains to make her jump. She ignored it as best she could. “Why,” she said slowly, “when I was little, did you choose me to manipulate? Huh?”_

_Bobo, who had been biting his thumb, jerked his head up, his teeth coming together in an audible click._

_“Because I was gullible?” Waverly continued, “Weak?” She barked out the word, her anger rising._

_“Weak,” Bobo interrupted her in a near whisper, “is something you’ve never been.” He raised his hand and pointed to himself, jabbing his finger dramatically. “I,” he turned his finger around to point at Waverly, “chose you…because you were angry.”_

_“I wasn’t angry,” Waverly protested._

_“You sure?” Bobo questioned._

_“I’m not, okay?” Waverly’s voice went higher and louder than she wanted it to._

_Bobo ignored the statement. “You’ve got depths that neither of us know the bottom of yet.” He pointed at her again. “Trust me.”_

_“You don’t know anything about me,” Waverly said, shaking her head._

_Bobo cocked his head. “Oh?”_

_“Except maybe what happened to Willa.”_

_“Nothing good,” Bobo said, his voice still that near-whisper._

_Wynonna entered. “Get out,” she said softly to Waverly._

_Waverly had long since stopped wanting to be in the same room as Bobo. She stood and cast one last look at the loathsome man. He waved at her. “Goodbye,” he said as if he knew he had gotten under her skin. Waverly left the room as fast as she could._

Bobo scared Waverly. It bothered her that he did, but she had no choice but to admit how much he scared her. It was like he knew things about her that she didn’t know herself and for some reason, she believed him. That bothered her more. To distract herself, she asked Nicole, “So, since you know all about my ‘romantic’ life, what about you?”

Nicole, who had just recovered from her earlier bout of embarrassment, groaned. “There’s nothing to tell,” she said with a wave of her hand, trying to keep her face from flushing yet again. “I’m not finding any, uh,” here she paused because she was trying to find a nice way to put it, “I’m not finding any guys who are my type.”

Nicole could’ve sworn she saw Waverly’s face fall, but it flickered back to life so fast she couldn’t tell. “Purgatory has limited dating options,” Waverly acknowledged with a smile.

“Ugh, tell me about it!” Nicole said. “And I’m not even really looking to date, you know, it’s just my mom keeps asking about it and…” she trailed off.

Waverly winced sympathetically. “Living up to someone else’s expectations can be really hard.”

“Exactly,” Nicole said with a sigh. Then, she looked at Waverly. “Honestly, I don’t think dating is really my thing. I mean, I get lonely sometimes, but I’m good, you know? Dating has always been so hard for me, and I’m happier when I’m not. I just…I can’t tell my mom that. She wouldn’t understand.”

Waverly reached across the table and grasped Nicole’s hand. “Listen,” she commanded gently, “you do whatever makes you happy.”

 _She’s beautiful_ , Nicole thought, and she was. The sun had broken free of the clouds guarding it all day and it shone through the window behind Nicole and lit Waverly in a brilliant, warm light. Her eyes were light, but serious, and her lips hinted at a smile, her head tilted just to the side, setting the highlights in her hair alight when they caught the sun. “Thanks,” Nicole managed to say through the fog draped across her mind, and something almost like jealousy or awe shifted through her stomach. She shook her head gently, trying to clear her thoughts. “I just wish it were that simple,” she said. Nothing had been simple recently.

_Nicole parked her cruiser outside the trailer park and triple checked her service pistol before exiting. She had radioed in her location, but she was still nervous. Bobo had a reputation with the police force, a reputation for cruelty, a controlling nature, and a habit of wiggling his way out of trouble. Even with the power of her badge, Nicole knew that she was treading in dangerous waters. She tipped her hat to the man guarding the gate and walked until she found a group of men seated in lawn chairs as they laughed loudly and grabbed at the various women drifting among their ranks. Nicole cleared her throat and rested her hands on her belt. The laughter died down and more than a few dirty looks were tossed her way. Nicole ignored them. “I’m looking for Mr. Del Rey,” she said._

_A few laughs and grunts met the statement, but no one gave directions. Nicole raised her eyebrows. “Do any of you know where he is?”_

_One man stood. He was built like a bear and had a belly to match. His hair was greasy and long, almost covering his beady eyes. He stepped forward to tower over Nicole. “We don’ like cops ‘round here,” he growled._

_Nicole tipped her face up to stare him down. “Where is Mr. Del Rey?” she asked again._

_The man’s face twisted further in anger. “Get lost, pig,” he snapped._

_Nicole’s hand moved to her holster as she stepped back, ready for any punches that may be thrown her way, when a loud voice interrupted the confrontation. “Willis!”_

_The bear stepped back, looking past Nicole to the owner of the voice. Nicole spun, her hand still on her gun to find a man with dark hair styled in a Mohawk and a fur coat striding towards them His beard and mustache matched his hair except for one blonde patch on the left side of his jaw. A similar, small patch interrupted his right eyebrow. His blue eyes were hard, but intelligent, like those of a wolf. He stuck his hand out in the guise of friendliness. “Officer, hello. I’m sorry for the reception.”_

_Nicole accepted the handshake, though she loathed doing so. “It’s fine Mister…?”_

_“Del Rey,” the man smiled and though it was a handsome one, Nicole suddenly felt he was more akin to a snake. “Bobo Del Rey.”_

_“Well, Mr. Del Rey,” Nicole said, trying to keep the suspicion from her voice, “you’re actually the man I was looking for.” She noticed more and more men wearing leather vests and bandannas crowding around them. Whatever else may be said about Bobo, he clearly inspired loyalty of some sort. Nicole was willing to bet it was based on fear._

_“What can I do for you, Officer?” Bobo asked politely._

_“I understand you’ve recently acquired digging permits,” Nicole said. “I’m wondering what they’re for.”_

_Bobo cocked an eyebrow. “Is this connected to an investigation?”_

_“I’m not at liberty to say,” Nicole answered. She had nothing. She knew she had nothing, but she had to try anyway. Something about this whole situation stunk._

_Bobo narrowed his eyes and stared at her. “It’s for quarrying,” he finally answered. “The boys and I are starting a business. We’re self-made men, you see.”_

_Nicole nodded. “But not all of the sites you’ve requested permits for are suitable for quarries,” she challenged._

_“You’re mistaken, Officer,” Bobo dismissed her. “I filed those permits myself. Everything is in order, you can ask the Commercial Building Commissioner, Mr. Littol.”_

_“He approved all of your permits,” Nicole allowed._

_“Then what’s the problem?” Bobo growled. His eyes had become mean and the circle of unsavory men was slowly tightening._

_“One of the sites is on protected land,” Nicole said slowly, eyeing the crowd around her. “It seems as though Mr. Littol made a mistake in approving it.”_

_Bobo took two quick steps forward so he stood nearly nose to nose with Nicole. “No mistakes were made,” he said in a near whisper. “I can assure you that, Officer…?”_

_“Haught,” Nicole responded with as much steel in her voice as she could muster._

_Bobo’s mouth quirked and his eyes drifted down Nicole’s body. “That you are,” he said._

_Nicole gritted her teeth and pinned Bobo with her most withering stare. She had heard that “joke” more than once. But, Bobo wasn’t finished. “It is nice to see a cop on the force that is easier on the eyes, but I must say, your police work is…lacking. There is nothing wrong with the permits, any of them,” he emphasized as he began to strut around her, “but I’m sure that being around your male colleagues can be…distracting, so I’m sure this little mix-up is just a temporary lapse.”_

_Nicole really wanted to punch him._

_Bobo paused and looked back at her. “Maybe, you should run these theories by them before making the trip out here next time, Officer Haught. I wouldn’t want you to waste your time.”_

_Holding her tongue around misogyny was not Nicole’s strong suit, but the 40 or so pairs of eyes on her made it easier. She knew that the quarrying answer Bobo had given her was bullshit, but she also didn’t have a leg to stand on legally. Really, she had already crossed a line by coming here, there wasn’t even a case open yet and Nedley sure as hell would be pissed if he found out about the visit. The best thing to do now would be to retreat. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Del Rey,” Nicole said, and then added, “it will be a great help to my investigation.” She couldn’t help the shot over the bow, and was pleased to see Bobo’s eyes flare in anger._

_“What investigation?” he growled, but Nicole was already tipping her hat and backing away._

_“Have a nice day, Mr. Del Rey,” she said as she turned around. Not for the first time in her life, she was thankful for her long legs because they allowed her to leave the scene quickly without making it seem like she was rushing or running. There was no formal investigation, that was true, but if she gathered enough evidence, she might be able to convince Nedley to open one. She climbed into her cruiser and radioed Brenda to let her know she was returning to the station. Now all she had to do was find some actual evidence._

Thinking about her confrontation with Bobo made Nicole want to bang her head against the wall. There was so _clearly_ something going on and yet there was nothing she could do. She had bribed Brenda with promises of free coffee and croissants every morning for two weeks to tell her about the BBD raid, only to find out they had as little knowledge as she about whatever Bobo was doing. So, no leads there, and Carl refused to see her when she went back down to his office for more questions. So, really, there were no leads anywhere, and between a lack of clear direction and the constant petty crimes Nedley assigned to her, Nicole knew nothing more now two weeks after visiting the trailer park than she did after her conversation with Bobo. It was infuriating.

Waverly was still looking at her sympathetically and holding her hand. It occurred to Nicole, somewhere in the back of her mind, that she would have normally pulled away from the contact, but it felt nice so she left her hand where it was. “It should be simple,” Waverly said. “If you don’t want to date, you shouldn’t have to. No matter what your mother says.”

Nicole grimaced. “I just hate disappointing her, and I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Waverly felt a flash of irrational anger course through her body. “I’m sure that’s not true,” she said.

Nicole chuckled. “It is, trust me. Everything went downhill when I told her I wanted to become a cop. I graduated the academy, moved all the way out here, and broke up with a guy she thought was perfect for me. In her eyes, I’ve made nothing but bad choices.”

“They’re your choices to make,” Waverly reminded her.

“That’s what I keep telling myself,” Nicole said wryly. “I just…I miss being able to talk to her.”

Waverly’s heart ached for Nicole. She remembered intimately the feeling of being abandoned by her family, of missing Wynonna so much it hurt. Gus and Curtis and Shorty were great, but she had missed talking to her sister, and she really hadn’t realized how much until Wynonna had reappeared in Purgatory. Now, she couldn’t imagine her life without Wynonna and without their talks and she knew she would do whatever it took to keep her in Purgatory, to help her break the curse. She had already gone much farther than she ever thought she would.

_The Blacksmith drizzled ashes over Waverly’s hand, which rested on the skull, as she started the incantation. “I ask the earth to give up this ash. I ask the air,” she bent down and blew some ash off Waverly’s hand, “to silence its name.” Then, she reached back and scooped a handful of water from the bucket. “I ask the water to cleanse this girl.” She let droplets soak into the remaining ash._

_Waverly took a deep breath as the Blacksmith grabbed a hot poker._

_“I ask the fire…” Waverly whimpered and closed her eyes as the poker came near, but the Blacksmith just waved it over her hand in circles, “to loosen its hold. Free from the tethers, purified by the elements, Waverly Earp, you are now open to receive this fragment of man into your life. Do you accept?”_

_Waverly, who had been nodding along as she listened, said, “I do,” before opening her eyes in surprise. “Wait. Did I just marry a skull?” she whispered._

_“You are connected,” the Blacksmith continued as if Waverly hadn’t spoken. “You are as one. The Keeper of the Bones, and the Stone Witch’s Son.”_

_The skull hissed and both the Blacksmith and Waverly pulled their hands back and gasped. The Blacksmith looked concerned and confused, which was very discomforting for Waverly._

_“Okay, what have I done?” The Blacksmith asked as if Waverly could answer. “When I bonded Curtis to the skull, I didn’t know whose it was. It never told me.”_

_“What?” Waverly asked, trying to make sense of the sudden change in tone._

_The Blacksmith was all but ignoring her now, though. “She’s going to be coming for me. I need protection. I need to find some salt.” She paced past Waverly._

_“What?” Waverly asked again. “Who’s coming? Am I in danger?”_

_“Of course you are!” The Blacksmith cried, returning to Waverly’s side. “This is what it means to be blessed. Oh, you poor sweet girl, what was Curtis thinking?”_

Waverly swallowed hard as she thought about the skull currently hidden in Willa’s old room. When she first found it, she’d been so excited, so ready to finally play a part in something real. After the bonding ceremony, however, her excitement had turned to dread. Something was happening, something was coming, according to the Blacksmith, and Waverly felt woefully underprepared and inadequate to deal with it. And, she felt equally as inadequate to deal with her crush sitting across from her looking sad about her mother; an area Waverly had no experience with.

“Your mamma loves you,” Waverly said hesitantly. “Things will get better, and you’ll be able to talk to her.”

Nicole’s eyes were filled with pain as she shared Waverly’s gaze. “How do you know?” she asked softly.

“Because my mamma left,” Waverly said. “As long as yours still talks to you and keeps in touch, I figure you have a chance to work things out.”

Nicole looked stunned. “Waverly, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Waverly said with a shake of her head. “It happened a long time ago.” She said it as if the pain of rejection and abandonment didn’t still rip her heart apart when she woke in the morning.

“No, no, I’m such a jerk, going on about my mom like that,” Nicole said, pulling her hand back and running it through her hair.

Waverly missed the soft warmth of Nicole’s hand, but she couldn’t regret watching it flow through her gorgeous red hair. “Really, Nicole, don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known, and it sounds like you’re having a tough time with your mom. I’m your friend, I’m here to listen.” She smiled and felt her heart glow when Nicole stilled upon seeing it. “Right?”

“Right,” Nicole said after a moment. “You know I’m here to listen, too, right?” Waverly nodded and Nicole relaxed into a smile. “Good, so long as that’s clear.”

“Crystal,” Waverly said as she leaned back in her chair. She caught sight of the clock and winced. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry Nicole, I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

Nicole followed her gaze and her eyes widened at the time. “Wow, coffee with friends doesn’t usually last for three hours, does it?” she joked.

“I would let it last longer if I could,” Waverly said, “but I’ve got to go shopping. I’m hosting an engagement party tomorrow night for Stephanie and I haven’t finished decorating the homestead.”

“Of course,” Nicole said. “I should get going anyway.”

Waverly walked her to the door. “Thank you for coming over, I had a really nice time.”

Nicole blinded her with a dimpled smile. “Me too,” she said. “I’ll see you soon?” she asked as she stepped through the door.

“Definitely,” Waverly said. Nicole smiled once more and started walking to her car. Waverly watched her go and her heart trembled. There was something unique about Nicole Haught, and Waverly knew now that she had underestimated her own feelings for the deputy. This, ultimately, scared her more than the skull did and as she walked back inside, she wondered if her new, more flirtatious policy, was really the best way to handle her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you to everyone who has left kudos and commented on previous chapters, it makes me really happy. I'm not hugely active on tumblr, but I check it daily and will respond if you contact me there (justoneofthosedays16).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during and slightly after episodes 1x07 and 1x08, Waverly and Nicole deal with Constance Clootie's attack on the homestead and Jack of Knives' abduction of Nicole and Wynonna. Nicole in particular is hit hard by the abduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I'm going to go ahead and say that you can expect chapters to be posted on a bi-weekly update schedule because I haven't been able to keep a weekly schedule like I wanted. If a chapter is ready earlier than that, I will certainly post it, but otherwise, expect new chapters to take two weeks. This chapter covers 1x07 and 1x08 and things start to diverge a little more from canon. I also want to note that because Waverly's identity as gay rather than bisexual was only revealed in 2x11, when I started this story, I felt like Waverly was bi and for the purposes of this story, she will remain bisexual. Thank you all for going on this journey with me and for all of your patience! I really hope you enjoy, and thank you for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, any dialogue/events you recognize from the show are works of genius that have nothing to do with me. I do not claim any of that. All of the subpar stuff? That’s all me.

Waverly thought her night couldn’t get any worse. From the moment Chrissy and Stephanie Jones had stepped through the door, she regretted having the party. Stephanie had started by criticizing Waverly’s decorating (after she had worked _so_ hard on it, too!) and skipped right on over to Waverly’s sexuality.

“I just don’t get it. Why even bother with women when you like men?”

Waverly sighed, not for the first time in the conversation. “Purgatory dating options are limited,” she said, trying to sound diplomatic. By the look on Chrissy’s face, she didn’t succeed.

“Yeah, but you had _Champ_ ,” Steph said, as if that explained everything. Privately, Waverly thought if anything, her brief relationship with Champ had only pushed her to start dating women sooner. Stephanie wasn’t finished, though. She pinned Waverly with a look that spoke volumes more than her next utterance. “From what Stephanie Stillmen tells me, you could still have him if you wanted.”

Waverly was tired of beating around the bush when it came to her now-very-seldom lover. “Champ is good in bed, but he’s also ignorant and immature.”

Stephanie cut in. “More like indulgent? He loved you, back in high school and I think he still does, even knowing your…other preferences. Waverly, I’m not trying to be mean here, but there aren’t exactly a bunch of dudes lined up waiting to date an Earp.”

The comment was so insulting on so many levels Waverly could only gape for a second before saying, “Wow.” It hurt because for all of the backhanded comments, she had still thought Stephanie was her friend. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

Chrissy interrupted the tense moment when she spied Doc through the curtains, and Waverly wanted to beat her head against the wall as she rushed to let him in. _Let Chrissy and Steph think he’s a stripper,_ she thought, _so long as it gets me out of this conversation!_ Yes, she thought the night had reached its peak for awful, but she wasn’t even close.

 ***

Nicole guzzled her morning coffee without even pausing to taste it. Taste wasn’t important that morning—caffeine was. Her late night with Wynonna at the station and the morgue had proved to be both infuriating and insomnia-inducing. Just when she thought she was getting to know the elder Earp a little better, a case shoved its way between them. Nicole didn’t think she would ever forget the condescension in Wynonna’s voice as she called Nicole a “rookie flat foot” and “confused.” Not to mention the accusation that _Nicole_ had messed with the body in the morgue. Just thinking about it had Nicole grinding her teeth. There was something going on with Wynonna, she just wished (not for the first time) that the Earps weren’t quite so stubborn about accepting help.

“Nicole!” Brenda stuck her head around the corner and into the bullpen, rattling Nicole from her thoughts. “Disturbance at the Earp Homestead.”

Nicole was out of her seat before Brenda even finished. Waverly had hosted that party, and Nicole knew for a fact that Wynonna hadn’t been home. “What happened?”

Brenda made a face as she looked at her notebook. “Chrissy said Waverly Earp ‘scissored a stripper’.”

“She _what?”_

Nicole pulled into the Earp driveway twenty minutes later. It should have been thirty, but she hadn’t even tried to keep her foot off the accelerator. She talked to Chrissy first, listening to her describe what she had seen of the attack. Privately, she was very glad Chrissy had hid. Sheriff Nedley thought the world of his daughter, and Nicole did not want to imagine a world in which he had to be without her. She finished taking the statement and saw Wynonna walking towards them. She sent Chrissy inside, noticing that Waverly was waiting at the doorway with a blanket.

“Your sister okay?” Nicole asked as Wynonna reached her.

“Yeah, well, she’s being Waverly,” Wynonna said lightly, as if her home had not been attacked.

“Yeah, well, Chrissy says she scissored a stripper. So,” she prompted when Wynonna looked down, “any idea why your homestead was targeted? I mean, besides the fact that it’s yours,” she added, accusation creeping into her tone. They were _all_ _lying_ to her, even Waverly and it was pissing her off.

“You know what, we should get some breakfast. I could murder a stack of pancakes,” Wynonna said. She looked and sounded both resigned and exhausted. “Then we’ll talk,” she added, “really talk.”

Nicole wasn’t buying it. “Okay, are you going to help me understand why some of these cases are a little too complex for local flatfoots?” she challenged, emphasizing the last two words out of anger.

Wynonna nodded and her usual façade fell away. “I’ll do my best,” she said seriously. She looked down at her phone, as she had been doing for the last day or so.

“Your boss going to be okay with that?” Nicole asked.

“My boss isn’t here,” Wynonna responded, and Nicole could tell it bothered her more than she was letting on even as she accepted the answer. “Guess you’re my ride,” Wynonna continued as she turned away.

“Okay,” Nicole agreed. She looked past Wynonna to the homestead again, to Waverly. Waverly caught her look and waved at her. Nicole smiled reflexively, relieved that the younger Earp sister was okay. Waverly looked away for a moment, but then returned her gaze to Nicole and smiled. The image stayed with her as she climbed into her cruiser and drove away.

They made it up onto the highway outside the homestead when the man stepped out onto the road. Nicole frowned and slowed the car, pulling up alongside the stranger and rolling down her window to ask if he needed assistance. He opened the door and before she could react, the knife flashed in front of her face, catching her hand as she threw it up to protect herself. Blood poured from the wound and Nicole shouted in pain, but he was already sticking a syringe in her neck. She fought against the darkness, but it overtook her too quickly, and her last thought was of Wynonna as she felt her body being dragged from the cruiser.

It couldn’t have been too much later that she woke blindfolded in his arms. He carried her into the woods, she could smell the pine trees, even as his scent made her want to gag. She drifted off again, only waking when she hit the ditch and took a blow from the man’s boot.

“You’re the wrong kind.”

And then he was gone, and Nicole felt the blood seeping from her hand and felt the drugs wrapping around her muscles and her brain. The fog descended yet again, and then there was nothing. A sort of peace overtook her even though there was a part of her that knew she was dying. It seemed like nothing mattered anymore but an image of Waverly Earp flitted through her mind before her heart finally gave out.

***

Doc thundered through the police station like Zeus, shouting about Wynonna and Nicole’s abduction. Waverly, her arm bound to her chest, watched in terrified silence first as Dolls confronted Doc and then launched into full on panic when Dolls suggested boots on the ground. “No!” she cried, “no, we need choppers in the air and jets and drones and cruise missiles pointed right at Bobo’s head!”

“It wasn’t Bobo that took ‘em,” Doc said, throwing the calling card he carried on the table. “Wasn’t the Stone Witch neither and your fancy weapons won’t do anything against Jack and his knives.”

Waverly had allowed his interruptions in silence, but she stepped forward as she responded, willing to unleash all of her fury on him. Someone had her sister, had Wynonna, and they also had Nicole. The idea that either of them could be hurt or worse made her want to scream and rage and throw up all at the same time. “What kind of man—”

Doc cut her off again, supplying all he knew of the serial killer that Wyatt Earp had tracked and killed. As he described what Jack did to his victims, the urge to vomit grew and Waverly had to turn away. She had to get them back, she had to make sure they were both safe. She tried to click back into investigative mode, to offer up helpful thoughts, but nearly broke down when Dolls spoke what they were all thinking: now a revenant, who knew what Jack would do to Nicole and Wynonna?

***

Coming back to life was painful.

Nicole felt it in her head first, blinding pain as she opened her eyes and gasped for air. Her body felt numb and tingly, but as sensation returned, she felt like she’d been kicked by a horse repeatedly and in various places. The EMTs held her down so she couldn’t roll over and cough like she wanted to and kept talking to her as if she could understand them. She groaned and tried to speak, but her throat felt both dry and torn and she couldn’t get Wynonna’s name out. They put a collar on her neck and then lifted her onto a board with a synchronized grunt. She felt every wobble and jolt as they carried her to the ambulance. It pulled away from the ditch as they cut off her uniform and started their examination. She would have cared, would have protested, but they started an IV and soon she was floating again, and no longer cared about anything. She smiled at the screaming sirens; she had used sirens before when she went to help someone. She must be helping someone now. She drifted to sleep with that in mind, even as the paramedics tried to keep her awake. Nicole was helping someone; she just knew it.

***

Waverly arrived at Nicole’s hospital room as Dolls was starting to question her. “Ok. So what was the last thing you saw?” Dolls asked as he flipped open a memo book.

“Waverly Earp, smiling at me from her front porch.” Nicole said in a daze. Waverly locked eyes with the deputy, her breath catching in her throat. The moment was short-lived; Nicole shook her head and continued. “And, uh, a man stepping out on the highway. Flaggin’ us down.”

“Description?”

“No.” Nicole closed her eyes in regret. “Just a blank space after that. Until the woods.” Her voice strengthened as the memories flitted back to her.

Dolls was all business. “So, what happened?”

“Somebody was carrying me. I was blindfolded, I think. Or just really drugged.” Nicole had to pause to gain control over her tears and Waverly looked away, trying to keep her own at bay. “Next thing I know I’m freezin’ cold, covered in dirt in a ditch by the side of the road.”

“What about Wynonna? Do you remember anything about Wynonna?”

 “No,” Nicole said, the anger leaking into her voice, “I couldn’t see anything.”

Waverly let out a sharp breath, the tears threatening to overwhelm her.

“Sight ain’t your only sense, Ms. Haught,” John Henry broke in. He looked at Dolls, who stood aside begrudgingly. “What did he smell like?” he asked as he stepped up to her bedside.

Nicole frowned at the sudden change in direction. “Ah—”

“Close your eyes,” Henry directed. “Take a deep breath in, let the memories come.”

Nicole’s frown deepened as she complied. “Sour. Musty,” she identified as she opened her eyes.

“Like death?” Dolls supplied.

“No,” Nicole corrected. “Spoiled fruit. And gasoline. He kicked me,” she realized aloud. Waverly felt a blow to her chest at the revelation and her gut sickened at the knowledge that Wynonna was probably going through much worse.

Dolls was confused. “What?”

“I couldn’t figure out why my chest was hurtin’. He threw me down and he said, ‘You’re the wrong kind’.”

Waverly could feel the panic rising as Nicole spoke.

“You’re the wrong kind. You’re the wrong kind,” Dolls intoned as he began to pace. “You’re the wrong kind, uh…serial killers, they, um, often have a type of victim that they prefer.”

“And Wynonna?” Waverly asked, her voice breaking. She couldn’t lose Wynonna, not now.

Regret laced Dolls’ voice, “Must be exactly what Jack’s looking for.”

Nicole could no longer keep the tears at bay. “Waverly, I’m so sorry.”

How could Waverly explain that some of these tears were for Nicole? For what she had endured? “No it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said, before ducking out of the room. She couldn’t process any of this. Her sister was in mortal danger, and Nicole had been hurt—dead. Nicole had died and Waverly felt like her entire world was collapsing. She fled down the hall until she couldn’t move any longer and slumped against the wall, crying. She was only alone for a moment, however, because Doc came up behind her and touched her shoulder. She turned and buried herself into his shoulder, sobbing as he tried to comfort her. If she’d had the presence of mind, she might have found it amazing how easily the old gunslinger had slipped into their lives. It wasn’t so long ago he’d been telling her to stay out of his business and reminding her she couldn’t possibly measure up to the heir. Yet, here he was, calling Wynonna “tougher than a boiled owl,” whatever _that_ meant.

Dolls interrupted the moment, and for all of his awkward, stoic behavior, Waverly knew that he was just as worried about Wynonna. It didn’t prevent her from trying to dry her tears; there was this wall, still, with the deputy marshal that Waverly could never seem to peek over and it made her wary about showing her vulnerabilities to him. Predictably, he had an update on the information Nicole had given them and, predictably, Doc started to argue with him. It was okay, though, because by the end of the conversation, Waverly knew where Wynonna was, and that was all that mattered. Dolls and Doc latched onto her idea about the prohibition-era tunnels and left to find someone named “Whisky Jim”. _Yeah, that’s going to go great_ , Waverly thought to herself as the marshal and the immortal left the station. Whatever, as long as they found Wynonna, and she knew neither of them would be able to stand it if her sister died.

This, of course, left Waverly alone in the station with her bandaged arm and time to think. Knowing she would just sit there and think of all the horrible things Jack could be doing to her sister, she opted for returning to Nicole’s bedside. She paused in the doorway again, watching the officer sleep, her long red hair curtaining her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Nicole,” Waverly murmured as she walked into the room. “You got caught up in my family drama and you _died_.” Waverly had to stop herself, the tears sprung to her eyes without warning and she clapped her hand over her mouth to cover her sob. She was unsuccessful and Nicole’s opened as if a gun went off.

“Waverly,” she croaked. “You okay?”

Waverly nodded despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. She wiped at them and tried for a smile.

Nicole shook her head. “No, you’re not,” she argued. “Come here,” she gestured to the bedside and Waverly found herself obeying despite her brain screaming _she DIED because of you, stay away from her!_ “Wynonna will be okay,” Nicole continued with determination, “she’s tough and strong and Doc and Dolls will find her.”

Waverly shook her head, trying to find the words to explain and apologize but of course she couldn’t because Nicole didn’t know about the _damn curse_. “I’m sorry,” she finally burst out, “I’m so, so, sorry this happened to you.”

Nicole looked at her like she was crazy. “Waverly, this isn’t your fault. If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. And, I am sorry.” Her face crumpled. “I’m so sorry about Wynonna…I tried…I didn’t expect…” she trailed off, hiccupping.

It was Waverly’s turn to shake her head vehemently. “No, Nicole this isn’t your fault. An evil man took Wynonna and,” Waverly paused. She couldn’t say the word “died”, not in relation to Nicole, so she carefully skipped over it, “…and hurt you. He’s the one who did this, not you.”

“But I’m a cop,” Nicole argued. “We go where the danger is, and we’re supposed to _protect_ people. It was my _job_ , Waverly, to protect her, and I failed.”

“Nicole, it’s her job to protect you too, she’s a deputy now, remember?” Waverly prompted, desperate to lessen Nicole’s guilt.

Nicole’s eyes shuttered, and her face lost its expression. “Even if Wynonna had gone through the same type of training I had and gotten recruited that way, it would only make her my partner in that situation, and it would still have been my job to protect her.”

“I’m sorry, Nicole, I didn’t mean to—” Waverly could tell she had crossed a line, but Nicole cut off her apology.

“It’s okay, Waverly. You’re right, Wynonna is law enforcement, too. Regardless, I should have had her back, and I didn’t. I got taken out quickly, and I’m lucky they were able to resuscitate me. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to help her, I know how much she means to you.”

Waverly tried to hold back the tears, but they poured out anyway. “I don’t know what I’d do without her,” she whispered.

Nicole reached for Waverly with her uninjured hand. “You won’t have to find out,” she promised. “Dolls and Doc will find her.”

Waverly nodded, looking down at their joined hands. Nicole’s fingers were long and delicate, but strong as they gripped hers. “Thanks,” she said.

Nicole nodded and leaned her head back on her pillow. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t?” Waverly asked, incredulous.

“Your sister is missing,” Nicole pointed out.

“You died,” Waverly said flatly; the sudden anger churning in her gut made it easier to say. “You matter, too.”

Nicole smiled. “That may be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“You need new friends,” Waverly grumbled.

Nicole laughed. “I already have one,” she said with a wink.

Waverly managed her first smile in hours. “A best friend,” she corrected.

“A best friend,” Nicole agreed.

 ***

A night later, when Nicole blew through the six pack in her fridge that would’ve normally lasted her a week, she knew she was in trouble, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t get Waverly’s face out of her head, the heart-brokenness, the pain over Wynonna’s disappearance. She knew Wynonna was okay, knew that Doc and Dolls had gotten her out of whatever hellhole she was in, but it didn’t matter. She shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Nicole should’ve protected her. _I should’ve been more alert, stronger, better at my goddamn job._ Instead, she had been drugged by a serial killer and left to die. She _did_ die, and Wynonna had been captured. Nicole crushed her last empty beer can in her hand and tossed it at the recycling bin. It missed, clattering the floor and Calamity, affronted, glared at her from her perch on the counter. Nicole ignored the cat. She needed more to drink, and she had enough sense left in her to call a cab.

She didn’t go to Shorty’s—she might’ve seen Waverly and she couldn’t deal with that right then. Instead, she directed the cabbie to a bar just outside of town. She’d had to visit it numerous times in uniform to break up fights and deal with drunks, but tonight, she would join their ranks. The buzz from the beer had started to wear off by the time she walked into the bar and Nicole considered that unacceptable. She laid her credit card on the bar and looked the gruff bartender in the eye. “Shot of vodka and then a bourbon and ginger ale. Make it a double.”

He took the card without comment and poured her the shot. By the time she slammed the glass down on the counter, the second drink was in front of her. She grabbed a five from her wallet and slipped it into the tip jar before gulping down her drink. She finished it in record time and lifted her glass to indicate she wanted another, and repeated the pattern three times. Her fifth drink found her slow and drunk, sipping to keep the buzz intact and thoughts of the freezing highway where she had died alone in the snow at bay. She was grateful that the rest of the bar patrons paid her no mind; she wasn’t in the mood to get hit on by some guy, even if the alcohol had cheered her a little. She was, however, pleasantly surprised when a woman sat down next to her and ordered a beer.

“Cheers,” the newcomer said, tipping the bottle towards Nicole.

Nicole obligingly raised her glass, giving the woman a quick once-over. She had short blond hair and a lot of makeup on that should have looked overdone, but instead achieved a smoky, sensual look that paired well with her tight jeans and tank top. “Cheers.”

“What’s your name?”

Nicole had to concentrate hard to answer. “Nicole.”

“Terry,” the blonde woman introduced herself.

“Nice to meet you,” Nicole said.

Terry looked hard at her and took a swig from her beer. “You’re pretty deep into it, aren’t you? Rough night?”

Nicole shrugged. “Rough week.”

“Ouch,” Terry said. She turned her barstool so she faced Nicole, and her eyes constantly drifted up and down the officer’s form. Not that Nicole noticed. “What happened?”

Nicole’s eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away in surprise. “I let down a friend. I should’ve protected her and I couldn’t. She got hurt.” She kept her sentences short and easy so she could actually say them.

Terry’s eyes softened in sympathy. “I’m sorry. I hope your friend is okay.”

“Physically, maybe,” Nicole mumbled and looked down at her glass. “I came here to forget the rest.”

“I guess I’m not helping with that right now,” Terry said.

“‘s okay,” Nicole said. “You’re just being a nice person.”

Terry laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me nice before,” she said. “That’s really sweet of you.”

She had a nice smile, Nicole noted, and before her brain could filter it out, she said as much out loud.

Terry’s smile turned into a smirk. “Sweet and complimentary, that’s quite the combination.”

Nicole blushed instead of responding. Terry moved to the edge of her seat. She had finished her beer and abandoned the bottle, leaning forward on one arm, her other hand dangerously close to Nicole’s knee. Had Nicole been sober, she would have moved away, but she barely registered the close contact in her inebriation. “Looks like you’re empty, Nicole. I’ll buy you another one.”

“You don’t have to—” Nicole started to protest, but Terry was already raising her hand.

“Three shots of tequila and two more of whatever the lady was drinking.” She winked at Nicole. “I gotta catch up.”

When the bartender set the drinks down in front of them, Nicole closed out her tab. She didn’t need to buy any more drinks. She didn’t need the drink Terry had bought her, for that matter. Terry downed her shots within a minute. Nicole wasn’t sure if even Wynonna would have taken them better. “That’s better,” Terry said as she took a sip of the bourbon. “I like your taste.”

“Thanks for the drink,” Nicole said.

“Thanks for not telling me to get lost,” Terry countered. “I’m feeling a little lonely tonight.”

Nicole looked down at her glass. She wouldn’t be able to look any of her friends from Purgatory in the eye anymore. “Me too,” she said, swirling the drink in her glass. “Wait, why are _you_ lonely?” she asked, picking her head up.

Terry’s smile faded. “I got dumped yesterday.”

“Oh,” Nicole said. “I’m sorry, that’s awful.”

“Nah, apparently I’m the awful one,” Terry remarked. “At least, according to her.”

What was it with Purgatory and lesbians, Nicole thought. “You’re not awful,” she said aloud. “I’ve met awful, you are definitely not awful.” She thought of Bobo and shuddered.

Terry shook her head. “There’s that sweet side again,” she teased, pointing at Nicole from around her glass.

“Just being truthful.” Nicole drained her glass.

“And honest, will wonders never cease,” Terry joked. She swallowed the rest of her drink in two large gulps and followed suit when Nicole stood.

“Thanks again for the drink,” Nicole said with a little wave. She started to the door and stumbled, barely catching herself on a chair.

Terry laid some bills on the bar and rushed to Nicole’s aid. “Whoa there,” she said as she took Nicole’s arm. “Come on, I’ll help you outside and get you a cab.” Nicole was surprised to find they were similar in height.

“See, told you you’re nice,” Nicole mumbled as Terry led her outside the bar. She leaned against the building as Terry called a cab, looking up at the stars. They were wonderful in Purgatory, so bright it felt like she could go blind looking at them.

Terry finished the call and wandered over. “They should be here soon,” she said, holding out Nicole’s phone. Nicole took it and put it in her pocket and then, inexplicably, she reached out and tugged on Terry’s hand.

“Come look at the stars,” she said, pointing up with her free hand. She felt Terry move closer as directed, but when she shifted her gaze, Terry was a lot closer than she expected.

Terry wasn’t looking at the stars.

Terry locked eyes with Nicole, and Nicole found it impossible to look away. They were dark, the pupils blown wide, and Nicole was fascinated. She didn’t notice Terry leaning closer until it was too late. Their lips connected and Nicole froze. Terry lifted her hands and cradled Nicole’s face as she gently kissed her. Nicole’s lips parted, and her eyes closed. Terry deepened the kiss for just a moment, sucking on Nicole’s bottom lip before moving away. “I’m sorry,” Terry whispered as she rocked back on her heels. “I think I read you wrong.”

Nicole didn’t say anything; she just stared, wide-eyed at the other woman. Terry’s face fell in disappointment. “I’m sorry,” she said again, and fled indoors.

Nicole’s breathing picked up and she felt like she might hyperventilate. Underneath all of the shock and panic, her drunk brain kept saying, “that felt _nice_ ,” and that just furthered her hysteria. Before she could go after Terry and demand an explanation, however, her cab pulled into the parking lot.

Never before would Nicole have described herself as a coward, but that night as she fled to the safety of the taxi, she felt like one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initiate Gay Panic™. 
> 
> If you like, look me up on Tumblr: justoneofthosedays16.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during most of the events of episode 9, Nicole deals with the aftermath of being kissed, and Waverly discovers just how far she's fallen for the straight girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been a really f***ing long time since I updated. I appreciate anyone who's been waiting patiently for this to update, I'm sorry it's taken me so long. I'm going to stop making any promises as to when this fic will be updated, because trying to keep myself to a deadline is turning out to be fruitless. I will, however, promise that I will not abandon this fic. It will be finished. I know how I want it to finish and where in the show's timeline it will finish. I really appreciate comments and kudos, so please keep leaving those, and if you're really enjoying it maybe recommend it to a friend. Also, at this point, the relationship between Waverly and Nicole is very divergent from canon, so there are scenes that happen with them in this episode and later episodes that won't appear in this fic, or will be heavily altered. Thank you to stuckyisawayoflife for helping me with one of these scenes, I couldn't have done it without you. As always, anything you recognize from the show was created by people far more talented than I and I do not take any credit for it. Thank you all in advance for reading.

Nicole twisted into her sheets, and though the night was cold and her fan was running, she gasped in her sleep and the moonlight lit the sheen of sweat on her skin. She dreamt of sitting alone at a bar. _Wait, not alone. A woman walked in, tall with smoky eyes and blonde hair. She smiled and laughed at Nicole, and Nicole could only blush and nod along with the conversation, while Terry’s hand drifted over her knee. Nicole stood, and suddenly, Terry was in her space and Nicole closed her eyes, trying to ignore her enticing scent—which was entirely too familiar—and then she felt Terry’s soft lips covering hers. Nicole moaned at the feeling and leaned in, bringing her hands up to cradle Terry’s face. The kiss was long, but gentle, and Nicole smiled as she ended it and straightened, opening her eyes. She was not cradling Terry’s face. Waverly stood in front of her, leaning her head into Nicole’s right hand, smiling at her with pure bliss. “Nicole,” she whispered, and the husky note in her voice, an aching combination of want and affection that made Nicole’s knees buckle._

_“Waverly,” Nicole moaned. “What are you doing here?”_

_Waverly’s hands touched her waist as she stepped closer. “Kissing you, silly,” she said in a soft voice. She tipped her head back and wrapped her arms around Nicole’s neck, tugging her down._

_“Okay,” Nicole mumbled, allowing herself to be led down, anticipating the kiss. Waverly’s touch was electric and as soon as their lips touched—_

Nicole shot up in bed, gasping for air. Her hands still reached for Waverly, and as soon as she realized it, she brought them to her face with a shocked groan. “No,” she whimpered, “this can’t be happening!” She scrabbled for her blankets, as if pulling them up would erase the ache between her legs. “Okay, okay,” she whispered as she pulled her body together into a ball. “It was just a dream. Dreams are weird and don’t mean anything. _It doesn’t mean anything_.” She felt something wet hit her hand and found tears when she lifted it to her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing them to dry but the tears just burned through her lids. She wiped them away furiously and felt a soft _thump_ from the end of the bed. She opened her eyes to see Calamity Jane prowling towards her. The orange cat meowed as she closed in and bumped her head against Nicole’s blanketed knee.

“Hi,” Nicole whispered, her voice wavering as she scooped up her cat.

For once Calamity made no protests upon being picked up. She just purred and curled up in Nicole’s arms, nestling into the crook of her arm and nuzzling Nicole’s shoulder. That just made Nicole cry harder. “Calamity what am I going to do?” she hiccupped. Calamity meowed and head-butted her again. “You’re right,” Nicole continued as if Calamity had answered the question. “I haven’t kissed anyone in a while. I’m having a normal reaction to this. I’m not…” she trailed off, unable to even say the word. Calamity Jane purred. Nicole gasped through her tears. “I have more important things to worry about,” she said to the cat once she had calmed a little. “There are some weird things going on in Purgatory, and the Sheriff needs to know about it.” With that thought safely blocking out all others she dislodged a disgruntled Calamity Jane from her lap and stood to get dressed. She had a report to write.

***

A few hours before Shorty’s was due to open for lunch, Waverly stood at the bar scowling at the broker talking to Gus. No matter what her older sister said, something had to give. Gus deserved a retirement, not a life sentence of running Shorty’s alone, but that didn’t make her any less angry at anyone who tried to buy the bar. Waverly sighed, watching as the broker stood to use the bathroom, followed shortly by Wynonna. Everything needed to stop; the revenants, all of the deaths, Gus selling the bar, her feelings for Nicole, the danger to Wynonna. For the first time, Waverly suddenly wished for the simpler times of just being a bartender who occasionally screwed Champ and was waiting for her big sister to blow back into town. At least then, things made sense…

Her train of thought was interrupted by Wynonna, who burst from the restrooms and rushed outside. Waverly frowned and considered following. Wynonna hadn’t been right since the kidnapping, not that Waverly would blame her. She wished, however, that Wynonna would talk to her. For that matter, she wished _Nicole_ would talk to her. The thought of her friend’s death still turned Waverly’s stomach in the worst way, and she knew the deputy wasn’t dealing with Wynonna’s kidnapping very well. Waverly wanted to make sure she was okay. _I’ve got it bad_ , she thought to herself. _I’ve got it really bad and it needs to stop_.

Waverly’s thoughts circled for the rest of her shift and only her considerable experience allowed to her to complete her prep work without her mind on her tasks. After she left the bar, her feet carried her towards the Sherriff’s station. She was still Nicole’s friend, and even if Waverly couldn’t make sense of her own life, she could at least help Nicole with hers.

***

On the other side of town, Nicole sat in front of Sheriff Nedley as he read out part of the report she had just turned in. “Unnatural. Otherworldly. Potential ‘Jack the Ripper.’ Really, Nicole? I like a joke as much as the next guy,” he said, pausing to look at her, “but I don’t have time for this.” He crumpled the pages in his hand and trashed them.

“Look, it wasn’t easy to write any of that down, but it is what I experienced,” Nicole protested. “I swear.”

Nedley sighed when he recognized the stubborn look in her eyes. “Look,” he said as he leaned over his desk, “I know you’ve had a hell of a time. You want to take a day or two, I understand.”

Nicole sighed as he spoke, looking down at the floor in order to contain her frustration. “This isn’t about getting kidnapped,” she argued. “It’s not just that—I mean, Sheriff, come on you’ve got to admit this place is weird.” She ended the sentence in a fierce whisper, not wanting to sound crazier than she already did.

“It’s a small town, Nicole. It’s quirky,” said Nedley as if he were stating the obvious. “It’s called Purgatory for chrissake.”

Nicole wanted to beat her head on the wall.

“Look,” Nedley continued as he sat down, ignoring his deputy’s frustration, “if you think it’s anything more than that, you might as well put in your resignation.”

“I don’t want to resign!” Nicole protested, leaning forward in her chair. “I like it here.”

“Good,” Nedley said, his tone leaving no room for further argument.

Nicole clenched her jaw and cocked her head as she started to stand. “I’ll redo the report.”

“Door,” Nedley said as Nicole started to leave. Nicole couldn’t hold back her glare this time, but she shut the door—maybe a little harder than necessary.

She walked back to her desk and sat down to re-write the report, but she couldn’t concentrate. Every time she looked at the screen, all she could think about was all of the weird shit happening in Purgatory: hers and Wynonna’s kidnapping, the man with the red eyes, Bobo Del Rey’s entire gang, the mysterious deaths attributed to animal attacks. How could the sheriff be so blind? Nicole groaned. This report was not happening. She needed to cool off, so she stood and gathered her coat and hat and walked out the door.

And….into Waverly.

Waverly laughed and held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, where’s the hold up?”

Nicole stared at her. For some reason, she couldn’t focus on anything except how beautiful Waverly was and how her mittens had little heart-shaped holes on her fingertips. Waverly gave her a strange look and repeated the motion, “‘Cause, you’re a cop…” she said with a little nod.

It still took Nicole a moment to figure it out. It hit her like a ton of bricks and she shook her head. “Right, sorry,” she said.

Waverly reached out and touched her elbow. Nicole nearly jumped out of her skin, even though she couldn’t even feel Waverly’s hand through her jacket. “Can we talk?” Waverly asked as she began to lead Nicole down the sidewalk. “I think we’re totally overdue.”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Nicole said. She wasn’t sure what Waverly wanted to talk about, but her confrontation with the Sheriff just wouldn’t leave her alone, so she stopped walking, looking around before asking, “Okay, I’m not…I’m not crazy, right?” Her words were rushed almost to the point of being jumbled. “There’s something going on here?”

Waverly stopped and stared at her for at least ten seconds. Nicole stared back, starting to think she really was insane when Waverly finally responded. “No. You’re not crazy,” she said slowly, her head tipped to the side.

“Okay,” Nicole said, exhaling forcefully.

“I’m not sure I’m really ready to get into it,” Waverly continued, her tone still cautious.

Nicole frowned. “Why?” she asked, frustration creeping into her voice. God, would somebody please tell her the truth?

“Because it’s different, right?” Waverly said. “It’s different for you?”

Nicole jerked her head back in surprise. “But it’s different for everyone, right? I mean, they must know. People must whisper about it?”

“Oh, god I hope not,” Waverly groaned covering her face with her hands. “I already deal with enough crap in this town.”

Nicole immediately felt bad. If Waverly knew what was really going on in Purgatory, she must be under a lot of pressure to keep it a secret. “Well, I only kind of just discovered it when I met you,” she said, trying to soften the blow.

“Me?” Waverly asked, an odd, almost hopeful lilt to her voice.

Nicole paused for a second. “Yes…?” Waverly was giving her a very odd look. Had she miss-stepped? “I don't mean to suggest it's because of you, it's just…” she trailed off.

Waverly snorted. “Please, I'm not that arrogant. I’m bisexual, not a damn unicorn. It's not like I have some mystical gift or something.”

“What?” Nicole said.

“What?” Waverly parroted.

Nicole’s confusion was sauntering into anger. “You’re making fun of me,” she said.

“No!” Waverly protested. “Sorry, don’t you want to talk?”

If Nicole recognized Waverly’s confusion, her anger clearly bid her to ignore it. “I want the truth!” she said, and recognizing she wouldn’t get it from Waverly, she stormed away.

Waverly watched her go with a halfhearted toss of her hands. “I think I’d do better with a unicorn,” she said to herself.

 

Nicole was fuming as she reentered the precinct. _What the hell was that?_ she thought as she sat at her desk and stared moodily at her computer. _I never said anything about her being bi, why did she even bring it up?_ She woke her computer and typed her login fiercely. As soon as her desktop loaded, the unfinished report flashed onto the screen. Nicole groaned and seriously considered calling in sick for the rest of the day, but chanced a look at Nedley’s office. She could see him working furiously through the office blinds and she sighed, her anger leaking out in favor of guilt. Purgatory had problems, whether supernatural or not, and the citizens needed to be protected and that was her job. “This report is just a bullshit roadblock to the real work,” she told herself, “just get it done.” She took a deep breath and started typing. It took two hours, but she finally finished and decided to take a well-deserved break. The only problem was without the work to distract her, her mind immediately flipped back to her earlier conversation with Waverly.

“I just wish she had been upfront with me. I understand if she can’t tell me, I just wish she’d at least _say_ she can’t tell me.” Nicole scowled at her desktop, her confrontation with Waverly ruining any satisfaction she might have gotten from finishing her report.

Nedley stuck his head out of his office. “Haught!”

“Sir?” Nicole sat as straight as she could manage.

He was scowling. “It’s 3 o’clock and you’ve been here since 7. Take your damn lunch already.”

Nicole blinked. “Oh,” she said. “Right, thanks, Sheriff.”

Nedley nodded and Nicole stood to clock out, mentally sighing as she realized that she wouldn’t be able to keep her mind off of Waverly during lunch.

***

Waverly groaned as she finished her sandwich, and not in a good, When-Harry-Met-Sally kind of way. She didn’t even understand how things went wrong earlier. She thought that Nicole might actually be showing some interest in her (and not for the first time). Plus, Nicole _had_ asked if there was something going on between them. but, evidently that was _not_ what she was asking, Waverly thought, because there were definitely not on the same page. She wasn’t sure they were even in the same library. _But, what else could she have meant?_ Waverly wondered as she glared at the wall. _She even said people were talking about it!_ That was a feeling she was very familiar with, first because of her last name and later because of her sexuality. _Or,_ she internally corrected with a wince, _because I never tried to hide my sexuality._ She had never even thought to, not once she met Anna in Algebra. Anna had been beautiful and sweet. She was shy, just like Waverly had been, and their first kiss had been behind Gus and Curtis’ barn, the sweet summer sun lighting their faces as they came together. Their relationship was brief—Anna’s parents had been looking for a reason to leave Purgatory, and Anna’s newfound sexuality and the town gossip that came with it was the perfect excuse for a “new start”—but it was beautiful and full of love. Waverly had dated a couple of women since and had a handful of female lovers, but none had reached the intensity of emotion she had felt for Anna. Not until Nicole, anyway. Waverly finished the last bite of her sandwich and sighed. Regardless of what had happened earlier, she needed to try and make it right. Nicole was her best friend and she deserved an honest conversation. With that thought in mind, Waverly paid her bill and left the café to find Nicole.

Fifteen minutes later, Waverly stopped her Jeep beside Nicole. The deputy was sitting on the only public bench in Purgatory, munching on an apple. She glared at Waverly as she rolled down her window. Since it was clear Nicole was not going to speak first, Waverly decided to start. “Nicole, what are you doing?”

 “Leave me alone, Waverly,” Nicole said.

Waverly shook her head. “The sun’s going down soon. If you sit there too much longer, you’re gonna freeze to death. Get in the car, please?”

Nicole pulled her Purgatory PD jacket more snugly around herself in response. “I’ll be fine.”

 “Don’t make me call Wynonna,” Waverly teased. “You know she’ll come out here and sit with you just to annoy you.” Nicole rolled her eyes and glared at Waverly, but she stood and climbed into the Jeep. Waverly drove them outside of town before pulling over and glancing at her passenger.

“Okay, so, I’ll start. I’m sorry for being such a jerkface before.”

Nicole sighed in frustration. “You were the one who wanted to talk, Waves, so I talked and—”

Waverly broke in before Nicole could wind herself up into a rant. “Okay, well, maybe we should figure out what exactly it is we’re talking about,” she said, her voice gentling a little.

“There’s something going on in this town and no one will admit it!” Nicole burst out. “And I’m pretty sure that Nedley knows, you know? But, he basically called me crazy for even thinking it. I just want someone to tell me the truth!”

Waverly’s heart broke and she reached out to cover Nicole’s hand with her own. “Hey,” she said. “It’s gonna be okay.”

Nicole looked down at their hands and then out her window. “I just screamed at you. You shouldn’t be nice to me,” she said.

“Yeah well, I know how it feels to feel like everyone you love is keeping secrets from you.”

“Love?” Nicole’s head whipped around. “I’m not in love with you. I’m not in love with anyone!”

Waverly shook her head, even as her heart halted in her chest. “I know. I know. It was a figure of speech.”

Nicole knew she was overreacting, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her heart was racing and she felt hot, cornered, and she could barely keep herself from lashing out again. “Good,” she said. “As long as that’s clear.”

“It is.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Waverly responded as she shifted the Jeep back into gear. “I’ll take you back to the station.”

They didn’t speak for the entire ride, and Waverly peeled out of the parking lot as soon as Nicole entered the building. She went straight to Shorty’s and downed three shots and grabbed the bottle before locking herself in the storeroom. Nicole’s words echoed in her head like a bad pop song she couldn’t purge, _I don’t love you_. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t handle it; she curled herself into the corner, as if making herself smaller would ease her pain. She’d had crushes on straight girls before, but that was when she was younger. Nicole was the first woman she had really _fallen_ for, and she cursed herself because had _told_ herself Nicole was straight, that Nicole could never have those types of feelings for her.

Of course, knowing that didn’t make having it shoved in her face any easier.

 _I need to get over her_ , she thought to herself. _This isn’t good for me. The deeper I get, the worse it will be._ Then again, how could she not fall for Nicole? Nicole was kind, and smart, and strong and gorgeous. She cared about her work, about the people she was hired to protect, and about her friends. Waverly didn’t know another person on earth who would have given up their life for Wynonna like that; not even Gus. _Why does she have to be so perfect?_ Waverly buried her head in her hands. _How am I going to get over her?_

It hurt too, that even the _idea_ of being with Waverly made Nicole react with so much anger. Waverly knew that Nicole was frustrated. Privately, Waverly felt that Dolls lived in a fantasy if he thought he would be able to keep Nicole in the dark for much longer. She was too smart, and she cared too much about her job and the town to let all of the craziness slip by without comment. Yet, knowing that Nicole’s anger was more directed at being kept in the dark didn’t take the sting from the sentiment. Nicole had still lashed out, and Waverly could hear the words looping through her head. _I don’t love you._

“Too bad,” Waverly whispered, “because I love you.” She reached blindly in the dark for the bottle she had brought with her and opened it. She took as long of a drink as her throat and lungs would allow. “To falling for straight girls,” she toasted, raising the bottle up before taking another drink. She drank the rest of the bottle in silence, and wouldn’t even remember leaving the storeroom later.

***

Nicole felt bad for her reaction in the Jeep. Really bad. But, she still had a shift to finish and cases to follow up on, so she couldn’t seek out Waverly to apologize until she got off at 9 o’clock. Even then, she stalled, worried about how (justifiably) angry Waverly was going to be. She went home, changed, made a cup of tea, fed Calamity, ate her own dinner, and then finally worked up the courage to apologize. She found Waverly at Shorty’s, the problem was, just a little late to the party. “Heeeeey!” Waverly sang from behind the bar. “How’s my _favorite_ officer doing?”

Nicole approached cautiously and was immediately vindicated because as soon as she reached the bar, Waverly’s eyes widened comically. “Oh, poop! I’m mad at you! You’re _not_ my favorite officer. Go away!” Waverly whipped her towel onto her shoulder and went to serve someone else. A very harried waitress headed her off and looked beseechingly at Nicole as other patrons shouted for her attention. The poor girl, who had obviously been trying to keep Waverly out of trouble all night, nudged her charge back towards Nicole and rushed to a table crowded by angry people. Waverly stumbled, too intoxicated for coordination and fell into the arms of Pete York.

“Hey, Waverly!” Pete said with a grin. He did not seem to find Waverly’s drunkenness a problem, and he gripped her waist and pulled her closer. Or, at least, he attempted to. Nicole was already there, yanking one mangy hand off Waverly and standing closer to Pete than was strictly necessary. She had never loved her height more, as it allowed her to tower over Pete and she gave him her best, most emotionless stare. He shrunk away and released Waverly, muttering useless alibis as he exited his seat entirely. Waverly just waved goodbye and giggled as she turned to face her new friend. Upon finding Nicole, however, her eyes narrowed.

“Waves,” Nicole warned in a low voice. She could tell the younger Earp was about to make a scene. “I really need your help.”

The outrage turned to suspicion and then to curiosity. “Help,” Waverly repeated.

“With a case,” Nicole clarified. She had to rely on her training to keep a straight face as she watched Waverly stumble through a myriad of emotions: distrust, disgust, anger, and finally acceptance. Nicole wanted to grin—she knew a case would prove irresistible—but she kept her mouth in a thin line.

“Could we use the upstairs?” Nicole asked. “I need to keep this private.”

Waverly nodded, though the distrustful look was back. Nicole led her by the arm and brought her upstairs. It took Waverly a few tries to unlock the door, but she managed. They walked inside and Nicole somehow got Waverly to sit on the couch. She got her a glass of water and sat down next to her, careful to keep her distance—lest Waverly be a temperamental drunk. Waverly studied her as she took a sip from the glass. She frowned when she tasted the water. “ that’s not vodka,” she muttered.

“I think you’ve had enough vodka for one night,” Nicole said.

Waverly shook her head in a determined sort of way. “I haven’t had any vodka.”

“That’s not the point, Waverly,” Nicole tried to say.

“I haven’t had any vodka! And you don’t get to tell me what to do. Even if you are a cop…” Waverly trailed off, looking Nicole up and down. “A really sexy cop,” she added, though quietly.

Oh.

Nicole felt like she’d been hit by a semi. She knew that Waverly was bisexual, but she hadn’t really _known_ it. Sure, Waverly had flirted the first time they met, but it hadn’t been like this. She hadn’t looked at Nicole like _this_.

Like Nicole was something to be enjoyed, to be desired. Like Waverly couldn’t wait to get her out of her clothes. Like she was famished and Nicole was a five course meal. Nicole felt her entire body go hot. Her face and neck flushed from embarrassment even as her stomach twisted and she felt her boy shorts slicken with arousal. Even worse, Waverly scooted closer, and it took every fiber of Nicole’s control to keep herself from leaping to the safety of the loveseat.

“Uh, Waverly,” Nicole said, though she had no idea what she intended to say.

“Shhhh,” Waverly said, leaning forward and putting her finger to Nicole’s lips. Nicole froze, unsure of how to extract herself delicately.

Waverly scooted again, completely eliminating the space between them. Her leg burned through Nicole’s jeans and her stomach and breasts were somehow hotter against Nicole’s arm. Waverly leaned farther until their faces were inches apart and Nicole could smell the alcohol on her breath. Their eyes were locked, and Nicole could see the desire and the unguarded affection in Waverly's eyes. Waverly’s lips parted and Nicole couldn’t help herself, her eyes flickered down and she could feel how sharp her intake of breath was. Waverly's lips were full and soft and Nicole had never wanted to kiss somebody so bad in her life.

The thought was so clear it blazed through Nicole’s mind like lightening. A strangled noise left her throat and she shot to her feet. “You need to drink the water,” she told Waverly. “You should drink the water and go to bed, Waverly.” She tried to sound calm, but even to her ears she sounded crazed.

Waverly looked dumbfounded, though whether that was because of the rejection or because she couldn’t process Nicole’s words was unclear. Nicole strode over to the bedroom and gestured inside. “Come on,” she said. “You’ve had too much and you’re going to regret it if you don’t get some sleep.”

Nicole couldn’t be sure if it was her tone or her words, but Waverly’s eyes filled with tears, only to be angrily wiped away. “You can’t tell me what to do,” Waverly snarled. Nicole winced at the venom in her voice.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said, trying to calm her racing heart. “I’m just worried about you.”

Waverly scoffed and began rifling in the kitchen, no doubt looking for more alcohol.

“Waves?” Nicole murmured as she stepped closer. “Drink some water, please?”

Waverly whirled around from the cabinet she was searching, fists clenched and ready to yell. Nicole kept her arms at her sides and made herself as small as possible. She glanced at Waverly and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Please?” she asked again, holding the bottle out.

Waverly stared at the bottle of water. Tears filled her eyes again and her face fell. “Why are you trying to help me?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Nicole answered.

Waverly crossed her arms. “Right,” she said, “friends.” She huffed, but stepped forward and accepted the water bottle. “I’ll go to bed,” she said, sounding miserable. “You can go now.”

Nicole stepped back automatically, but her stomach twisted. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Waverly,” she started, but the other woman shook her head.

“ It’s fine, Nicole.” Waverly stumbled back towards the living room. “I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Nicole tried again.

Waverly stopped and sighed, swaying in place. “You don’t like me, do you, Nicole?” she asked as she turned around.

Nicole frowned and shook her head. “You’re my friend, Waverly, my _best friend_. Of course I like you.”

Waverly’s laugh was short and bitter. “That’s not what I meant,” she said, eyes shining. “You don’t _like_ me, not as more than a friend.”

Nicole felt her face grow hot again and her stomach clenched painfully. “I…n—no. I’m sorry, Waverly.”

Waverly closed her eyes and waved it away. “You’re straight. It’s okay.”

Nicole’s mouth opened and closed as Waverly resumed her drunken journey to the living room and her bedroom beyond. Her stomach pain increased to unbearable levels and she wanted punch something and cry at the same time. She’d hurt Waverly. It was the worst feeling in the world. She’d taken her best friend’s feelings and ground them into the dirt. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t intentional, that she’d been blindsided by the idea of Waverly being attracted to her, much less having _feelings_ for her.

Jesus.

Waverly had _feelings_ for her.

Nicole’s back hit the counter, her head spinning.

Waverly had _feelings_ for her. Images hit her so fast it was impossible to block them out: Nicole and Waverly at dinner in a restaurant holding hands; quick, chaste kisses in the station during shifts; road trips in Waverly’s jeep with the top down, the warm summer sun encouraging their laughter; quiet nights spent together on the couch, flirting and cuddling; heated kisses with wandering hands that tugged at clothing and—”

Nicole bit her lip almost hard enough to split skin. Her knuckles protested her fierce grip on the counter. She felt bile rise in her throat and had to work hard to keep it down. She wanted to bolt to the door, but she crept to Waverly’s bedroom instead; she would never forgive herself if Waverly didn’t make it to bed safely. What she found wrenched her heart from her chest. Waverly was curled up on her bed, crying into a pillow, her whole body shaking from the emotion. Nicole covered her mouth with her hand and backed up. She stumbled out of the apartment and through the bar, ignoring the stares and shouts as she elbowed past patrons. She found her cruiser and threw herself inside. Then, she could no longer hold back the flood. She cried long and bitterly, letting the cold Purgatory winter seep through the car into her skin and down into her bones. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” When she had no tears left, she started the car and drove home. She climbed into her bed still shivering and when she finally fell asleep, her dreams were filled with Waverly’s cries.


End file.
